


Summer Camp

by Shatterpath



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-01
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A twist of fate brings big changes to Kate Todd's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings: Kate/Ziva. Just work with me on this one.  
> Warnings: Girls with girls, DUH! Oh, and I played fast and loose with canon, because I can, so neener, neener, neener!  
> Dedicated to my special friends, ariestess, ardvari, racethewind10, ctorres and myself. I had too much fun immortalizing the whole gang of us!  
> Disclaimer: "NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Belisarius Productions, Paramount Network Television Productions, Paramount Television, and CBS Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> For the NCIS Femslash Ficathon! My assignment was as follows:  
> Pairing: Ziva/Abby/Kate  
> Prompt: Rollercoaster (literal or figurative is up to you!)  
> Dislikes: angst, watersports, bitchiness, death, eh what did i write here last time?  
> Rating: any (but would be leaning to an NC-17 side though if possible)  
> My apologies to my recipient, as this wandered off a bit from her request above. Fortunately, the story ended up being pretty good, so I hope she forgives me. I'm still working towards that rating, so be patient!

++ McGee ++

Things are still off kilter.

Months later, we are still not a whole.

Despite how much I respect and frankly, fear Ziva, seeing her sitting at Tony's desk, awkwardly trying to fill his place in our lives hasn't completely worked. Knowing that she was connected with the bastard that killed him certainly hasn't helped.

Gibbs likes Ziva, that much is obvious. He treats her much as he once did with Tony, with that oddly dry, sarcastic affection. She takes her cues from him and is grateful when she gets paired with me for assignments, no matter how hard she tried to cover the reaction.

Because, if not…

She has to deal with Kate.

Even now, the two women are snapping and growling at one another like some sort of violent wildlife documentary. It's fascinating and perversely amusing to watch as they circle and throw barbs in their verbal warfare. Oh, they get the job done and Ziva's learning fast despite Kate's simmering hostility, but they don't make for a comfortable work environment.

Right now, it's the same hostility, different argument. Looking back, I realize that they've actually cooled off lately, because this one is bad. Prickly and hurtful and angry, they feed off each other in some kind of warped symbiosis.

The cracking noise of Gibbs' open palms smashing down onto his desk silences the entire bullpen. The dark glare ensures the quiet will linger. Icy and angry, he glowers from Kate to Ziva and back and forth several times, making them both cringe. Later, the reactions will amuse me, but right now I'm frozen in place. This must be how the people in Washington State felt, looking at Mount St Helens just before she blew.

But we are once more saved by the man's self-control as he snatches up several files from his desk and storms up the open stairway to where the director's office and MTAC are. All of us silently track his progress as he vanishes through the doors leading to the director.

Shaken and nervous, we all return to our work in complete quiet.

++ Jenny ++

I knew when I took this job that he would be trouble.

Little did I know that it would be his team that would be at least as much trouble as he.

Unannounced, once more ignoring poor Cynthia, Jethro slams into my spacious office like a hurricane and I refrain from rolling my eyes. "Senator Jackson," I say gently to my phone conference. "I'm terribly sorry, but one of my agents seems to be under some duress. Yes, of course, senator. I'm looking forward to it. Until then!"

With the phone call aborted, I can give my complete attention to Gibbs, noting how… flustered he seems. Despite the stillness of his body, he wants to pace and rant and rave, the conflict flickering across his face. Long moments pass while we stare at one another, looking for an opening. Eventually I quirk a small grin and say gently, "spill it."

A harsh, growling sigh is the equivalent of a nervous breakdown for Gibbs and I refrain from smiling.

"Jen, I can't take it anymore," he grates out unexpectedly. "Seriously, I'm going to kill one or both of them."

"Ah," is all I have to say, well aware of the ongoing problems with his team. This animosity between Ziva and Agent Todd is becoming the stuff of legend. If they weren't still producing consistently good results, I would have come down on them myself by now. "Still a little… tense?"

There's no mistaking the teasing lilt in my voice and Gibbs deflates with a grouchy sound that makes a laugh tickle my throat. "Never thought two females could be such a pain in the ass," he grumps, slumping into one of the seats. "No offense."

++ Gibbs ++

"None taken," Jen grins gently, letting her humor color her voice. "I'm surprised you've let this go on for this long." Yeah, so am I, frankly. It seems that I've lost all ability on how to deal with them with the impact of that bullet.

"I don't know what's bothering them anymore," I confess softly, the agony of failing them and Tony still as sharp as ever. "At first I figured it was just… losing Tony. But it's been months and they might actually be getting worse."

"How much worse?" Jen questions, still in that gentle tone that makes some little boy part of me want to crawl into her lap and pout. "Change of attitude worse or change of assignment worse?"

It's a legitimate question and one I've been asking myself for weeks. "They behave while I'm watching and if they have a task to occupy them."

"Would it be beneficial to get in an opinion from the others that work with them?"

The question surprises me and my expression asks for clarification.

"McGee? Ducky? Abby?"

Something that might be hope eases some of my tension and I nod slowly. So Jenny smiles almost maternally again and returns to her desk to page the three of them up while I brood. I don't like this feeling of helplessness at all. The fact that it is my teammates suffering only makes it worse.

McGee and Abby arrive quickly, their puppy-like energy lifting my spirits, buoyed up further by Ducky's steady presence as he comes in minutes later. With little preamble, the five of us put our heads together, tossing out ideas that get quickly discounted.

"Can't be a competition," Abby clarifies wisely. "They do that enough. It's gotta be something warm and fuzzy and completely outside of their comfort zones."

It's McGee, seated at Jen's computer, that comes up with the perfect plan. With a noise of triumph, he grins wildly at the rest of us. "I've got it! Come see."

It's perfect.

++ Ziva ++

No one has explained what is happening and I am getting agitated. I have no more information than Gibbs leaving the director's office with the others in tow and demanding first Kate's then my keys. Marched off to his car, we were each given five minutes at our homes to pack light for one week, nothing fancy. Then we picked up a cheerful Abby, dressed more casually than I have ever seen her and bubbly with happiness for the surprise that she is obviously a part of.

At the airport, things grow even stranger when Gibbs pulls into the departure drop off and hands each of us an envelope containing a plane ticket. "Get out," he growls and climbs out to thrust my bags at me and Kate's at her, gently handing Abby's over. "Your service weapons and your cell phones," is the next order and we warily comply. "Do what Abby says, learn something and get over your shit. If you don't," his voice drops menacingly, "don't bother to come back."

Before we can do more than stare, he climbs into the car and vanishes into the slow-moving traffic.

"Before you ask," Abby says jovially, "I'm not going to explain what's going on, so don't bother. We're all under orders. The main difference is that I'm already prepared to have fun. Come on then!"

Bewildered, I follow Abby, sensing Kate behind me, radiating confusion and uncoiling anger. Some things about this country have been familiar from early on. One of the Air Marshalls is checking my gun before boarding our flight. This is when Abby cheerfully ditches us with a laughing promise to see us on the plane.

While we wait at the Air Marshal desk with ID in hand, Kate growls, "California? What the hell is in California that's so damn important?" As has become my custom, I stay silent unless I absolutely have to speak.

Accustomed to the suspicions of the Air Marshals, I am secretly grateful that Kate is with me to brusquely assure the man that I am what my ID says I am. Thankfully, the regular security checkpoint goes smoothly, despite my international driver's license.

Side by side, Kate and I spend the long flight to California nearly in the back of the plane with the noisy, coughing masses. Not accustomed to this, we are silent and uncomfortable the entire long trip.

This does not bode well at all.

++ Kate ++

The anger never leaves me. Burning like acid in my brain and guts, it consumes me constantly.

It should have been me.

While Tony as a person drove me to irritated distraction, he was my partner and he's dead because of a revenge-obsessed lunatic under the protection of our own government. And now I'm stuck with his former handler, for heaven's sake! It's enough to drive anyone a little insane.

The worst part about all this is that I'd really like Ziva under different circumstances. She is charismatic and smart and funny. But too often I look at her… and see only Ari. It's not fair and I know it, but the self-recriminations and the internal replay of Ari and Tony never stops.

I'm understandably depressed as we disembark at LAX.

Abby's waiting patiently at the end of the ramp, slinging a friendly arm around my shoulders. "Do you trust Gibbs?"

How I want to growl and deny the true answer to the quiet question, but I can't and deflate in her hold. "Yes."

"Then trust us, Kate. This really is for your own good."

Defeated for the moment, I quietly follow the taller woman, Ziva silent in my wake. Once our bags are in hand, Abby rents a car for a week and once more leads the way. As we drive through Los Angeles, the urban landscape is a blur that none of us pay any attention to. More of Abby's discordant, brain-melting music fills what would probably be an awkward quiet. The irony that I find the cacophony strangely soothing does not escape me.

City turns to suburb turns to outskirts turns to dry mountain emptiness. By the time I've noticed, civilization is long gone and there's nothing but us, the rocks, sand, trees and the winding ribbon of asphalt.

++ Abby ++

"Where are we?"

It's been quiet in the car for so long that Kate's voice is gravelly, like she's been sleeping. The sound discreetly wakes the dozing Ziva, who raises her head up like she's pretending she hasn't been sleeping at all.

They really are so silly. This constant game of strutting around like neither has any weakness when Kate's so obviously still in pain and Ziva's so obviously nervous about her still-new role here. And both are so achingly lonely it's actually a little frustrating to the rest of us.

So, here I am, willing enforcer for our little work family, doing desperate things to these women to try to get them into a better headspace…

Before someone else get hurt… or killed.

Over time, I've accepted that Tony is gone, even if there are times I almost expect to hear his jovial voice in the hallway outside my lab.

The GPS pulls me away from that depressing line of thought by alerting me that my final turn is imminent. Neither of my companions is fazed by the brief skid across rutted gravel that wraps around a dusty bluff covered in squat desert shrubs. There is an old-school ranch fence here, the giant wooden crosspiece above the road reading 'Dog Oasis Camp'. Beyond is a thickly-graveled road that leads off into the trees, disappearing around another curve, leading upward.

"Gravel, Abs?" Kate questions, her voice actually sounding vulnerable. "Where are you taking us?"

"It's not as bad as you think," I shrug and navigate the surprisingly good road. It's packed far more densely than I had initially thought. "There are enough amenities here to not leave you in tears, Kate, relax. Gibbs is annoyed but he doesn't want you to suffer."

We break out of the pines suddenly and find ourselves above a surprisingly green valley, tucked away in this dry place. Blood-red roofs are dotted throughout this little haven and both Kate and Ziva press to the window to see.

++ Ziva ++

These mountains are unlike anywhere I have been before. The dry is familiar, but the smells are not, or the sound of the breeze in the towering, alien pines when I roll the window down. There is a hint of damp here; rising from the valley below and the tree canopy is far richer greens then the surrounding forest.

At the bottom of the first turn is a security gate. With stereo curiosity aimed at her, Abby pipes up, "this place's clientele is normally the stressed executive type, so security's tight." The road widens out before the barred gate and a smiling man dressed in khakis strides over.

None of us miss that he's armed with a heavy pistol.

"Good afternoon, I'm Jerry. Welcome to Dog Oasis Camp. Do you have reservations?"

"Hi there!" Abby charms enthusiastically. "We're late signups. Abby Sciuto, Caitlin Todd and Ziva David."

A sturdy electronic device appears from where it has been hanging at Jerry's belt and he expertly taps at it before smiling. "DC huh? You've come a long way. Come on over to the shack and we'll get all the security and check in done for you. If you'll pop the trunk and leave the doors open for Kirby, that would be great."

Kirby is a grizzled German Shepherd that plods out with his handler, a fresh-faced girl that looks like she's barely sixteen, and they begin methodically checking the car over.

"Retired police dog," Jerry explains as he swipes our IDs through a card reader. "Are you armed, agents?" I'll bet I stiffen as much as Kate, concerned that this place will try and disarm us, but Jerry just grins wider. "Relax. You just need to register your gear for security. We don't get a lot of law-enforcement, in fact I think you might be our first Feds, and we understand that Uncle Sam has done our legwork for us."

He punches the pertinent information about our backup pistols in the computer and I'm impressed enough by his professionalism that I even pull out the heavy knife nestled at the small of my back.

"Old school, huh?" he grins flirtatiously at me and I can't help but smile.

++ Kate ++

Great, while Ziva and GI Joe here 'bond', I still have no real clue what's going on here and it's upsetting me. The gun back in my possession makes me feel a bit better, but I still don't like this guy, dammit. He's too slick and friendly and all that shit…

"Oh, hey guys, I almost forgot," Abby suddenly chimes in and trots back to the car to rifle through her bag to return with a pair of unidentifiable objects. They're black circles with a bulge on one section of their circumference, about four inches in diameter. "Just proximity squealers," Abby shrugs at Jerry and hands them over. He looks impressed and faintly amused as he checks them over, splitting them at a hidden seam to reveal electronics and a battery. His expression clearly says, 'who the hell did you two piss off,' as he hands the devices back to Abby.

Then the green eyes land on me and I read the seriousness there even as Abby speaks. "Let me see your ankle."

Part of me notes my hysteria as I freak out over the suggestion of the house-arrest anklet being locked around my flesh and bones. But I've grown so numb that I barely note it, most of me dispassionately watching the melt down, my voice gone shrill and mostly incoherent in the dry mountain air.

Abby's expression doesn't change, but her eyes are so sympathetic and so gentle that choking tears blur my eyes and clog my throat. It isn't until I see the stunned and faintly alarmed look in Ziva's dark gaze that the numbness realizes that I need to get a grip. Stuttering and sobbing, I fall hushed, the forest around me silent in sympathy. Only then does Abby wrap me in a choking hug.

And for the first time since Tony's funeral…

I hug back.

After that, I wearily watch Abby kneel and lock the anklet above my right foot and lock it into place with an odd blunt key like I've never seen before. Then she stands with the other one, her gaze swinging between me and my silent partner. "These are squealers. They'll shriek like a car alarm if you get further than about ten feet apart. It starts out fairly soft and chirpy, but the further apart they get, the more obnoxious the noise will get. No avoiding each other, kids."

Mostly calm again, I witness perhaps the strongest emotional conflict I've seen in all these long weeks working with my new partner. Terror and mulish discord dance nakedly over her face and body. It makes me painfully aware of the strange weight of the thing on my own body. Deep brown eyes flicker from the anklet to me and back and forth for a long moment, but duty wins out. Swallowing her high emotions, Ziva nods and allows Abby to kneel and lock the nasty little device around her leg.

Now we are bonded in a whole new way.

++ Abby ++

This is somewhat pathetically amusing, watching Kate and Ziva. Things never should have gone this far, but we've all been dealing with our own shit and not watching out for one another. Because of that, Kate is a raw, festering emotional wound and Ziva is still suffering from a bad case of 'probie' syndrome.

For the moment, Kate is calm and even passive as she defers to me, but there's more vitriol to expel and any sane person knows it. Hope Ziva's as tough as she thinks she is…

Security checks complete, we are allowed through the gate once I hand over my keys. Only Ziva's expression registers that I have surrendered the only key to release the squealers on their ankles. They are well and truly trapped now.

Jerry hands us off to another employee behind the wheel of a cross between an ATV and a golf cart, tossing our bags onto the little flatbed and securing them with a bungee net. "Julie here will take good care of you. Have fun!"

As we drop into the surprisingly lush valley, we get the nickel tour from our driver, pointing out some pertinent features and flora. There are athletic courts and a sprawling fire-pit circle for large groups. Off in the trees somewhere a horse whinnies loudly, echoed by several others and I note that both of my charges perk up at the sound. Excellent.

"It's nearing dusk now," Julie tells us, once more heading uphill in the strangely quiet vehicle. "So I'll take you to your cabin and return in the morning for the full tour."

Beyond what are obviously the sprawling common areas where small quantities of people mill about, are the cabins. I cannot help the squeal of delight, my angsty coworkers forgotten for the moment. "Ohmigod, this is so summer camp!"

Our cabin is way up the side of the valley, a bit away from the others, a tiny house with wood siding and painted bright green. On the porch is painted a larger than life boxer dog like she's guarding the building. "The bosses have a theme with dogs. This camp also takes in rescued working dogs and gives them jobs in their twilight years. Each cabin has a dog that is also an ID to which one you're in."

++ Ziva ++

It's a beautiful place, there is no denying that. Abby's squeal makes me jump and I curse my nervousness. I'm unsure of what she means by 'summer camp', but at least it seems to be a pleasant thing.

The vehicle stops silently, no doubt an electric engine, and we grab our things to enter our new home. An annoyed, rolling electronic chirp at my feet makes me jump, Kate freezing in her tracks where she had been walking away. "This will take some getting used to," I mutter and hasten to catch up to my partner. The twist of her mouth agrees with my words.

Inside, the first room is simply furnished with a pair of well-used leather couches and a set of table and chairs with an upright wooden cabinet against the wall.

"The toilet is the center door to the left, sink and shower on the right," Julie tells us. "There's some literature on the table about the rules and when and where things happen. Oh, and dinner is in about twenty minutes. Have a nice evening."

With a click the door is closed and the three of us are alone. Abby eyes the space shrewdly and with ill-concealed excitement. "You guys better take the left so that we can all stay asleep if you need the toilet in the middle of the night."

It makes sense and I head for the doorway on the left wall, hoping that Kate will follow before the anklets chirp again. The room has a twin bed against each wall, each with a rack of narrow shelves floor to ceiling and a tiny desk with no drawers. Even in this quick glance, I can see that Kate and I have a problem. When I walk over to the bed at the north wall, the anklets squawk and we share a commiserating look. Only one bed is close enough to the door to not trigger our shackles.

"This is bullshit," Kate groans, anger and resignation in her voice. Somehow it actually makes me smile faintly, not immune to our sudden unity in the face of this truly bizarre twist in our tale. The beds are actually bolted to the floor, years of wax built up around the metal and wood.

"I will make the first sacrifice," I decide out loud, grabbing the mattress on the north wall and yanking it over to lie beside the east wall bed. With a few pushes and shoves, my mattress is off center to hers, leaving enough space that I should not get stepped on. "Just don't step on me."

To my astonishment, Kate actually huffs in short amusement. "You'll be okay on the floor?"

Flopping onto my makeshift bed, I look where my crossed feet lie near the center of her bed. "As long as it does not get cold."

++ Kate ++

Damn Gibbs and his reassuring and completely aggravating ability to be right so much of the time. By binding me to my partner like this, we have been forced to work together as one entity. The change is almost instantaneous, both of us dreading the disruptive noise of any real separation. As we tromp down the hill after Abby, I hang back in perverse obstinacy at the fringes of the bracelets range, almost giggling at Ziva's amused and aggravated glance as they beep once. Feeling raw and a little giddy from my outburst earlier and the indignity of this house arrest, I trot up to her side and stop screwing around.

We're almost to the main building where the savory smells are coming from when Ziva's question stops me in my tracks. "What do we tell someone if they ask about these?"

Scrubbing my face with both hands, I give the idea some thought. "The truth I suppose. It was this or go job hunting. Frankly, I like my pay grade."

It isn't until much, much later, that I will realize what a bitchy and insensitive thing it is to say to her. I might lose my job, but she would look like an idiot to the Mossad and be sent home in disgrace. But the very real humiliation of what we're in right this minute overshadows that realization for now. Because right now, we're faced with a roomful of curious strangers who have come here just as we have. Abby's already found a place to sit and is making friends, leaving Ziva and I to our own devices.

For a long moment, neither of us moves, feeling that proverbial 'deer in the headlights' sensation. Then I gently place a hand in the small of Ziva's back and prod her forward. Why exactly I leave the hand on her is something I'm not going to look at too closely. Maybe not ever. I must look like some sort of possessive boyfriend or something equally ridiculous.

To make this first introduction to the whole group even more awful and awkward, there are no two seats close together, making the weight of the anklet seem far heavier than it really is. Abruptly, one of the khaki-uniformed employees leaps up, plate and cup in hand. She is an enormous, androgynous bear of a woman, standing taller than Gibbs with a build to match her bear-like stature. With a head gesture she concedes her seat, which conveniently backs up near another empty space.

At least we can eat in relative peace.


	2. Chapter 2

++ Ziva ++

In a glance I counted forty two including us, though the room could easily hold three times our numbers. My table companions are three men and two women of all shapes, sizes and colors. It's no surprise that it's one of the men that interacts with me first, an alpha stud with a too-white smile that jovially introduces himself as Trevor. He marvels over my exotic last name and I know the thinly disguised lust in his expression.

I have been well trained in what to do here. I have been well trained in how to integrate myself into any group, any situation. I am a ghost, a figment of imagination, a chimera. But right now I have no wish to play this game and abruptly silence my learned reactions to this transparent man. Right now… I just want to be left alone to be me.

It's a strange thought, this urge to step away from the guile and disinformation that has defined most of my life. If nothing else, these Americans I now work so closely with have taught me a new kind of honesty. So I discretely ignore Trevor with a stilted smile and turn to the rest of my table mates. There is a gentle-faced fellow that makes me think of what McGee will look like in ten years seated beside a young woman who is nearly vibrating with stress. The rest of the table is a suburban-looking pair that I'll bet is a couple, if not actually married. Unlike Trevor, they range from unthreateningly friendly to politely indifferent.

Robert and Jeanne are the couple and it amuses me that the latter seems more interested in me than her male companion. "We found this place through a friend of ours and have been coming back every summer for five years."

"We're tenured," Robert chuckles and I don't resist the smile. "You're new here, hmmm?" Some of my curiosity and trepidation must show on my face, because his kind amusement deepens. "We've gotten good at reading the new kids."

Slapping affectionately at him, Jeanne turns a winning, flirtatious smile on me. "He's a brat, ignore him. Five years ago, our business and marriage were in the toilet when aforementioned friend threatened and cajoled us to come here. Now, both are better. We make soaps and candles and beauty products and crap like that. Labor intensive and rewarding and works for us."

It's delightfully normal and I am struck once again by how different I am from people like this. What do I say to them?

++ Kate ++

The small scrape of sound lost amidst the noise of the room doesn't really register, but the press of Ziva's head on my shoulder sure does. Luckily, my jerk of surprise doesn't spill her out of her chair and the weight of her body leaning back in said chair thumps lightly against my back. Turning my head gets me a tickle of my brunette hair and her black curls. I'm more than a little taken aback at how close she is, the dark eyes curious and a little nervous.

"What do I tell them I do?" she whispers and I am suddenly reminded that I have not been a good mentor to her. This is not the sort of question that we should have to cover after three months. After this long, we should have reached some sort of symbiosis. Even Tony and I got it after this long and he drove me out of my mind with being an obnoxious distraction. "Kate?"

My mind has wandered off and I shake it back into place. "Are you worried about people knowing you're Mossad?"

She nods. "That and just being Israeli in general."

All of the people of her lands have been colored by the small margins of lunatics among them; just as some of our American values have been colored to provide a means of hate among those same lunatics.

We are wildly different people, Ziva and I. Twelve years of Catholic school, college, a start in law school and a sidestep into the Secret Service led me here. A family of law enforcement that we Americans can't really comprehend and a background that would make 007 jealous has shaped Ziva.

"Do they seem nice?"

One thick, black eyebrow arches up in question, but she quirks a small grin. "Except for Trevor the leech."

"Letch," I correct and find myself smiling back. "Though leech probably isn't an inaccurate description."

It's a strange bonding moment and something that happens far too rarely with us. Guess this place, away from our real lives, will be good for us after all.

I continue to be both amazed and annoyed with Gibbs.

++ Ziva ++

These peaceful moments with Kate have been so rare that I can remember each one. Particularly after the shocks of these last two days, I hardly expected this gentle smile. Something warm and almost sensuous blooms in my guts, making my smile suddenly feel a little silly. So, strangely euphoric with something that might be happiness, I share the smile with her for a moment longer before thumping my chair down flat, the tendrils of her hair tickling over my face.

"I had to check in with my partner," I explain warmly to the new people that I've met. "My background is very unusual and I worry sometimes how to pass it over." Over time, I have grown accustomed to this particular look of confusion and sigh internally. "Sorry. I do not correctly use American idioms sometimes."

"Pass it on," Robert chuckles. "And any language's intricacies are difficult to learn. How many languages do you speak?"

"Seven. Well, seven fluently anyway."

They're all curious now, the gentle-faced man adding in that his name is Joey and he's a computer programmer and he's there because he has explosive temper issues. Trevor is a lawyer, no shock there, who has skirted health problems due to stress. And stressed-out young Carrie is a concert pianist who has been sent here by her therapist for some decompression.

While they have eased me into relaxing by sharing first, food has arrived. More khaki-wearing staff set down trays of eating paraphernalia that faintly alarms me with the battered condition of the plastic plates and cups. Robert once more chimes in with an explanation. "The head honchos are sticklers for not being wasteful. The flatware might not be pretty, but as long as it's functional, it stays put. This whole camp is amazingly self-sufficient."

"You're some sort of law enforcement," Carrie suddenly speaks up out of nowhere. "You have that body language."

It's now or never. "Yes. I am Mossad, from Israel, the equivalent of the CIA. Now, I am working as a liaison officer with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

++ Kate ++

There's a lull of startled quiet at the table behind me and instinct takes over. Despite my irritation and standoffishness, Ziva is still my partner. As I once would have selflessly put myself in danger for the president, for Tony, I turn in my seat and prepare to defend her.

Luckily, the woman on Ziva's left chuckles in delight, her pale eyes flickering from me to Ziva and back again. "Oh, partner," she elaborates with an emphasis I don't quite get. "I misunderstood. Jeanne Blanchard and my husband, Robert."

Automatically, I accept the offered hand, shaking it politely. "Kate Todd."

Part of me is dying to ask her what she was insinuating, but the good little Catholic girl in me wins yet again and I hold my tongue. Instead, I smile thinly and stand up to stride away, to just get away from all this weird subtext.

And miss the warning squawk that turns into a horrible electronic wail. "Dammit!"

If the noise, which sends me scurrying back to Ziva, doesn't get the attention of every brain in the place, the angry expletive sure does. Angry and violated all over again, I shrink into my seat and wish I could disappear.

"House arrest," I say only just loudly enough for our two tables to hear. "The boss is pissed off."

It's not hard to imagine Ziva's queasy smile at the other people at her table and I turn my attention to the food on my plate, tuning out the rest of the world. There's no real sense of what I'm eating, just my stomach quieting and some of my lightheaded stress vanishing. Bet all this heavy beef will make me queasy later…

No one speaks to me for the rest of the meal, though I can track the conversations behind me. At first, there is awkwardness behind me, but slowly the table warms up once more to Ziva. I envy her that, the ability to fit in with anyone, despite her differentness.

Sigh…

++ Abby ++

Well, things seemed to have improved a bit, until Kate got lost in her own temper again and set the squealers off. I never doubt Gibbs, never ever, but right now I almost dread how this is going to turn out.

While I had been enjoying the company of strangers, now the anklets have distracted me. Since my attention has been diverted anyway, now I watch my coworkers while I eat, staying out of the conversations around me.

When Ziva first joined us, I was as hostile as Kate. There was no question whose camp I was in, the solid friendship with Kate winning out over curiosity over this new girl. But, despite that, I've warmed to Ziva over time and could easily warm more to her. Gibbs has a strange bond with her no one understands, but I hope to one day, and McGee likes her even though she scares the hell out of him. He doesn't dare get to cozy though, not with the senior agent still a psychological briar hedge that even Gibbs won't completely ignore.

Wonder if Kate knows how much of an effect she has on the rest of us?

Probably not.

Being senior agent hasn't sat well with her. She seems to believe that she's not ready for it and has said as much to me, even if I had to pry it out of her with alcohol. Maybe that's what they need, to get wasted and get their shit out of their system. Gibbs did say whatever it takes…

The tall woman that gave her seat to Kate stands up with hands raised for the crowd's attention. "Hey guys, hush up." Chuckling, the crowd stills as ordered and focuses on her. "For the handful of newbies, my name is Karl Meyer and me and the best pal, EJ Dell," a small, rubenesque woman waves from nearby, "we're the head honchos, so welcome. Door's always open in the apartment downstairs and you can hit up anyone dressed like the Crocodile Hunter. Couple of quick announcements; the movie tonight is Mrs Doubtfire, always a hit, and the stables should be open again tomorrow, but probably not until after lunch. Have a nice night guys!"

That's the signal for the dinner crowd to start breaking up and I rush over to grab Kate in a hug that's more of a headlock. "You guys up for a movie or a walk or something? Don't sulk too much or I'll sick Karl on you."

++ Ziva ++

"And no one wants that," says a dry voice beside me and I jump and whirl. Said Karl is even taller in person, with at least three inches on even Abby's tall frame. "You three are my DCers, aren't you?" An abruptly raised hand stalls out introduction and hazel eyes behind glasses flicker over us. "Abby, Kate, Ziva, right?" We must look startled at her accuracy because she chuckles warmly. "Educated guess. Welcome to Dog Oasis Camp. Did you get settled in okay? If you need anything, drop in on the apartment downstairs. It doubles as the office."

"You could take the damn squealers off," Kate growls darkly and I cringe at the explosion I know is brewing. But the big woman merely crosses her arms and regards us quietly for a long moment.

"The way I understand it, the anklets are voluntary with stipulations. I had a nice chat with your director. Nice woman."

Why that little piece of information surprises me is a mystery. Of course Jenny called to speak with these people. After all, what is going on with us has to be out of the ordinary at best. Abruptly, she grins again and claps a big hand to my shoulder and Abby's. "If you ever come back, you'll have to bring that sadistic boss of yours. He sounds like a kick in the pants. I look forward to getting to know you three better. Later!"

"I like her," Abby tells the now-empty room.

"Really, I don't think I can handle any more tonight," Kate says tightly, scrubbing both hands over her face. While part of me wants to explore, I think she's actually right this time and I nod along.

"Fine," Abby sighs. "I'll walk you up to make sure I know how to get back in the dark, but then I'm off to find entertainment and whatever passes for caffeine around here."

"This late?" Kate questions in concern and Abby tightens the arm she has around Kate's neck, shocking me when I get the other arm looped around my own.

"No, I'll be good. But caffeine headaches are nasty and I want to be prepared."

++ Kate ++

"Up and at 'em, campers!"

The bellow in a voice I barely recognize has my head up, mental processes scrambling to catch up. At least reflex hasn't failed either of us, two gun barrels pointed at the door that separates us from the central room. Ziva mutters something darkly in one of her many languages and lowers her gun.

"Karl," she explains when it's obvious I haven't caught up, going to the door.

"At least we didn't shoot," I groan, flopping back into my pillow.

"Abby warned me," the new woman chortles and I do my best to glower from the folds of the pillow. A quick glance at her watch results in a raised eyebrow. "You have a tour for nine AM, do you not? Well, you've got an hour to get ready. I've decided that you two are far too fascinating to hand off to the underlings and I'm showing you around myself."

I catch myself before whining that it's too early as my awakening brain translates that eight AM Pacific Standard Time is actually eleven for me. When was the last time I slept this late? By the throbbing in my temples, quite some time.

A battered thermos lid of hot, black coffee is a siren song that gets me out of the warm bed. "You can shower first," I tell Ziva through the haze of steam. "After all, you opted to sleep on the floor. It's the least I can do."

Nodding silently, Ziva gathers a few things from her bag and I follow to sit on the floor by the shower room door. The squealer digs into my ankle and I study it dispassionately as I sip the coffee.

"Thank you for this, by the way," I remember to be polite to our host, who is watching me with a very thoughtful expression.

"You're welcome. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Here, a present from EJ. There's a few muffins on the table, too."

It's a baggie of granola that smells heavenly when I split the seam and grab a handful. It's sweet and savory and crunchy and marvelous.

"I'll tell her you liked it," Karl chuckles and once more checks her watch. "I'll give you ladies until nine to get perfect and be back with the ATV, okay? I have a couple of chores to tackle in the meantime."

"Okay," I agree willingly, caught up in soothing my empty stomach.

++ Ziva ++

The sleepy Kate was strangely sweet where I found her cross-legged on the floor outside the shower room. Now we're both dressed and ready for the day, seated side-by-side on the porch bench at the edges of the morning sunlight.

"It's pretty here," Kate muses and I can't help but flash her an odd look. Caitlin Todd is not prone to small talk and the sudden presence of it makes me leery. Before I can find a response, the crunch of tires heralds the appearance of the same silent vehicle that brought us in yesterday. Karl grins from beneath her wide-brimmed hat and oversized sunglasses.

"Hop in, troops. Got working shoes on? Good. I have a treat for you."

Once more, Kate defers to me, waving me into the front seat while she climbs in behind me. "Thank you for breakfast," I tell our host as she accelerates the vehicle away from the cabin.

"My pleasure. You two and Abby missed the orientation day before yesterday, so I'll get you caught up now. Me and EJ and some pals bought this place six years ago to be a kid's horse camp. Turns out that we found a better niche with grownups that need some downtime. There are still some kid's groups that come up here, but mostly it's stressed executive types. There are twelve cabins same size as yours and two huge ones that sleep forty for large groups. The main building is the mess that doubles as public space for movies and dances and stuff. Below is a workshop, general store and the apartment I share with EJ and my girl. There are work spaces across the main quad from the central building over there that has a garage and shop and stuff. There's also the communications office there with computers and phones and such. By making communication a pain in the ass, we try to encourage people to step away from being dependant on cell phones and computers. Between one and three every day, we turn on the WiFi for everybody. But you might have noticed that there are no outlets in the cabins. That's deliberate."

"Our boss took our cell phones," I feel the need to point out, once more making Karl chuckle.

"That's okay. There's no reception out here anyway. Just land lines for everything."

++ Kate ++

We've bounced down the valley now and Karl points out the volleyball courts and where the main road curls past the massive firepit hangout. Then we enter the wall of trees on a track of woodchips, nearly silent amongst all the nature.

"Wow," I marvel at the towering pines dimming the bright autumn sunshine. After a brief trip through the forest, we veer suddenly to the east and quickly break out into open space again. Now this we couldn't see from the road above, or I would have noted it. Great, rolling green fields stretch on for some distance, flanked by the forest and a fairly massive lake glittering beyond. The ATV slows to a halt as we take it all in.

"This is what sold us on this place," Karl muses with adoration in her voice. "All of this land used to be a logging operation that went under, so we were able to buy everything cheap. Thankfully, the lake is nearly cleaned up now and the wildlife is returning in small numbers. The old clearcuts are filling in except for these eighty odd acres we keep for food, pasture and a bit for recreation. There are paddleboats, but they fill up fast. We don't recommend swimming, but there's a pool behind the main building back at camp. But you two are here for the horses."

There's no denying the thrill those last words cause. There are a pair of massive buildings were headed for and another further out among the fields. I can see now that much of the cleared land is crops of all shapes and sizes.

"You grow your own food," Ziva notes matter-of-factly and Karl nods.

"Nearly one hundred percent. Little comes in from the outside anymore. We like it that way. And the state just okayed us to put banks of solar panels up on the ridge this last spring, so that project is humming away and will be for some time. There wasn't many amenities with the limited electricity that we could get wired up here, trust me."

Then we're at the stables and the little girl in me wants to squeal happily. Down the central, wide hallway, horse heads poke out, every shade and shape and color.

++ Ziva ++

Horse care and riding are among my odd trained skills and I like the animals. There are few more visceral thrills than control over a massive half-ton animal, particularly when flying at full gallop. Following Karl, I pause and stroke a silky black nose of a graying bay who is mostly, if not all, thoroughbred.

" _Shalom_ , pretty girl," I croon at the animal and she breathes humidly across my face. As the mare seems friendly enough, I rub her forehead and breathe back onto her to say hello.

"Good choice," says a new voice and an athletic blonde exits a nearby doorway, both her and the bay jumping when the anklet squawks. "Kris," the girl says, pointing to herself, then gestures at the mare. "Toots." An irritated Kate slinks over to sulk at my shoulder.

"Ziva, Kate. She's beautiful," I do the quick introductions and turn everyone's attention back to the bay mare. Despite the annoying noise that startled her, the big horse continues to flirt outrageously.

"Well, Ziva, Toots likes you and that's all good with me."

A short, sharp whistle gets our attention and it's Karl, waving us towards her. "Kate, Ziva, come're. I was hoping you could do me a favor." She is standing beside an enormous equine head, square and mulish and attached to a thick neck. "Hey guys, this is Baloo, a good friend of mine." She wraps an arm around the thick neck and pats a cheek. "He was a rescue that my better half found in an old-school logging operation. Thankfully, they treated him decently and he's a big pussycat." With a hand gentle on his halter, Karl leads the massive horse from his stall. "He's a muleron, half donkey, half percheron. And a gelding, so he's pretty laid back. You two have ridden?"

I see Kate nodding in the corner of my eye as a slender young woman appears with a heavy blanket and a thick leather strap. "Good," she responds warmly as she tosses the stiff blanket over Baloo's back. "That means you can exercise this big baby for us. Though, he'll do most of the work as long as you're not a complete idiot on his back." Her voice is lightly accented, though I can't place it, but possibly northern European. "I'm Mickey, by the way. Me and the Bog Dog there double up when we have the time." Karl chuckles at the nickname and I realize that this is 'the better half'.

While she's been speaking, the blanket has been strapped into place and a bit a bridle swapped out for the battered halter. Not expecting the sound, I jump when Kate squeaks in shock. In Karl's hands, she looks like a mere child as our tall host picks her up and settles her on Baloo's back.

++ Kate ++

I have not been manhandled like this since I was a small child. Thankfully, I don't go in defensive mode and kick the crap out of our host. Her touch is trustworthy and strangely maternal, settling me on Baloo's impossibly wide back. "He's like straddling a battleship," I marvel at the pull on my thighs and rear end. Both Karl and her girl chuckle in understanding, the former eying Ziva for a moment before grabbing her too.

This is the closest I have ever been to my new partner. Strange sensations skitter up and down my nervous system, leaving me paralyzed and stiff on Baloo's back.

During all of this, Mickey has gathered up the reins to press them into my frozen hands, curling my fingers around the smooth leather. "He knows his way around and the trails are clearly marked. Have fun!"

With that little pep talk, Baloo heads for the sunlight in a slow, loping plod that is surprisingly comfortable. Now, I haven't ridden a lot over my life, the experience being a rare treat that has left an impression on my psyche. The movements of Baloo's towering body between my legs eases my mind on a primitive level, relaxing me into Ziva's forced embrace.

Her hands rest at my waist and her small-breasted frame is warm and surprisingly soft behind me. The sunlight is pleasantly warm and gentle sounds of frolicking attendees from the lake add to the ambiance.

It's a deadly combination to a sore, prickly soul.

"He's a nice horse," she says quietly and I pat his big neck in agreement. Baloo flicks an ear back in acknowledgement of my caress and picks up his plodding pace a bit into a faster walk.

"Think he can still run?" I hear myself ask in a giddy voice, seized with a fit of madness. "Hang on!" loosening the reins and squeezing his great ribs with my legs, I give Baloo permission to run. And, to my surprise, he does just that. Head flattening, thick legs pumping, the mule stretches out and his speed starts to pick up quickly. Green grass starts to whip by and the sound of wind and pounding hooves fill my ears.

For these long moments, this animal has granted me a childish freedom and I soak it up.

++ Ziva ++

I cling to Kate like an embedded cactus spine and squint into the whipping brown hair. The sound of Kate's childish giggle warms me, gives me hope that perhaps she will indeed, step fully beyond her antagonism one day.

This desperate cling aboard a gleefully running mule also brings a truth to focus that I have been desperately trying to ignore.

I am attracted to this mercurial woman.

That small distraction is all it takes to unbalance me in my already precarious position on Baloo's wide back. In the space of a heartbeat, I feel myself slipping and abruptly shove away from Kate to prevent both of us from falling. With well-trained reflexes, I twist my body to roll with the rough impact into the lush pasture, tumbling wildly to burn off the forward energy.

Dizzy and winded, I come to a halt on my side and flop ungracefully onto my back. It takes a moment for Kate shouting my name to register over the horrible squalling of the anklets, her face suddenly blotting out the sun. "Ziva! Are you alright? I'm so sorry."

This is the most emotional I've seen her, outside of the explosion when we received the anklets, which have mercifully fallen silent once more. Gentle hands rove over my face and limbs as Kate fusses and I lay there getting my senses together. When her knuckles brush my sides, the giggles escape despite my common sense warning danger.

"Are you laughing?" Kate questions incredulously and the giggles grow and multiply into a strangled snort of laughter that emphasizes my soreness. "Dammit, David! You scared the hell out of me and you're laughing?"

Baloo has appeared now, nosing the anklet as it squawks from a livid Kate stomping away. Carefully sitting up, I cringe as the noise grows strident, resulting in Kate's incoherent cry of rage. Despite the horrid noise, Baloo stands with his ears flattened and allows me to pull at his girth strap to painfully stand up.

++ Kate ++

Blind with rage, I force myself to sidle over to Baloo's bulk where a groaning Ziva is testing out that everything still works. It's hard to stay angry with her looking battered and grass-stained like this and I swallow down my temper for the millionth time.

"I swear," I growl as I duck under her left arm to help her out, wrapping my arm around her waist, "when I know you're okay, I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

Once more, she chuckles, wincing at the pain the tumble has so obviously caused her. "I'm okay, Kate, really."

"Shut up," is all I can think to say and she somewhat bemusedly does as ordered. "At least we're the same size and I can help. Hope you weren't overly attached to this outfit, by the way."

"I'll live," she says wryly as we limp back towards the distant barn, Baloo plodding in our wake. We haven't gone far when the electric ATV comes bumping over with Karl and Mickey in attendance.

"My fault," Kate assures them, "not Baloo's. He was great and I got carried away."

"Not often you get to freight train, eh, big boy?" Karl soothes the big mule and tosses Mickey onto his back before handing her the trailing reins. Then I pause, caught by watching Mickey leaning over to share a quick, sweet kiss with the towering Karl.

There's no denying that I'm fascinated by the loving interaction and once more stuff down the reactions with long practice. Ignoring Ziva's curiosity is more difficult, anger rising to cover my confusion. So I help her onto the seat of the little vehicle and retreat into my own shell once again.

"You okay there, Z?" Karl asks, setting a gentle hand on my partner's shoulder and Ziva smiles wanly.

"It will take more than a fall from horseback to take me out."

"I bet," Karl chuckles.


	3. Chapter 3

++ Ziva ++

After a painfully bumpy ride, I find myself standing in Karl and EJ's apartment, the later smoothing gentle hands over my torso. My stained shirt is draped over a nearby chair and I'm grateful that I habitually wear a bra, though I hardly need one! Clucking in concern, EJ finishes cleaning and bandaging my scrapes and tickling over my torso before she leans back.

"The bruising is shallow and your breathing is normal, so I think you'll be fine. Smart move to protect your head and neck, Ziva. I'll give you some ibuprofen to take and you come see me if you feel the need." A matronly glare makes me want to giggle self-consciously, but I resist the urge. "Any need, got that?"

"Yes ma'am," I agree demurely and take the small, crinkly paper packets she hands over. Then, to my surprise, she turns to Kate, sulking nearby on the couch.

"So, I hear that all of this is your fault?" The explosion is halted by an imperiously raised hand, making Kate blink in surprise and her anger to evaporate. "It wasn't an accusation, just a good reason to make you help out." From a desk drawer, EJ produces a small bottle of a thick green liquid. "Give your poor partner here a break and see if you can't massage out some of that arriving soreness."

After shrugging back into my shirt, I take the bottle, reading that it's avocado oil. "Is this massage oil or lunch?" I query cheekily and EJ laughs.

"Did I hear lunch?" Karl booms as she pushes into the room with her hands loaded and Abby in tow. Three cats materialize out of nowhere to cluster about her feet, meowing. "You two missed it, so you get room service along with the boss lady. Park it, Z."

Despite my small confusion over the 'park it' comment, I figure that she means to sit and I do. Despite these women's fussing, my soreness is tolerable. Karl hands over bowls of steaming stew and warm slices of crispy bread sitting on a plate beside lovely grilled vegetables. Settling into the visitor's chair at EJ's desk, Karl watches us quietly as we start eating.

"Did you two bring swimsuits?"

++ Kate ++

The comment doesn't really surprise me, after all a pool has already been mentioned, but my confusion must show a bit because Karl grins. "There's a hot tub on our porch, wood-fueled, and a public Jacuzzi at the pool heated by solar tubes. I was going to offer the former."

My expression of disappointment must be an echo of Ziva's, who quietly whines, "The boss didn't give us much time to pack our things."

"I bet," Karl chuckles and hauls herself to her feet. "I think I can help. You eat and I'll search."

"Never throws anything away, that one," EJ complains affectionately and we all eat in a companionable quiet. A small-footed weight startles me as the smallest of the cats, a gorgeous black darling with bright green eyes, appears on my shoulder.

"Don't beg, Elphaba," EJ scolds mildly as the cat gives a rusty meow that makes me grin.

"She's okay," I reassure our host and rub the cat's silky head and chest. Part of my mind is still worrying at my strange reactions like a dog at a bone. The answers are just out of my reach, right on the tip of my tongue. Mercifully, EJ doesn't chit-chat at us, merely efficiently consumes her lunch while keeping a discreet eye on Ziva.

As the hunger in our bellies subsides, Karl returns with perfect timing. "Told ya, Spotty, that keeping all this crap comes in handy ever so often," she says to an amused EJ, before shuddering in comic horror. "Even if I have to deal with the damn spiders. Now, the pink's Mic's, so make sure I get that back, okay?"

Since I have finished eating and have empty hands, the floppy mass of fabric is tossed to me to sort out. With some poking and prodding, a hot pink bikini set is separated from a second skimpy top in sunny yellow and an amusing pair of brightly-colored board shorts. "Dude?" I question Karl sarcastically and both she and EJ howl with amusement.

"You skinny, athletic girls are easy to dress. The shorts might not be your usual MO, G-woman, but they'll keep your modesty in the water. Unfortunately, I can't get the tub going until after dinner, because it takes a couple hours to heat up and has to be monitored that whole time. So, Spot, what's your doctorly opinion for Z here?"

"A long, slow walk and/or a nap. You take good care of her Kate."

++ Ziva ++

The 'slow' part of the walk seems to be eluding Kate and, after the fourth warning from the anklets, I slide my left arm through her right and cling tight. Stiff and unaccommodating, she tolerates my touch, clamping my hand to her side. Neither of us speaks, merely wandering lazily around the camp on some shredded-bark trails we find.

It takes a long time for Kate's body to relax.

As her tension bleeds slowly away, I cast surreptitious glances at my partner, admiring her strong profile and the color of her unusual eyes. Sometimes light brown, sometimes faintly greenish, the pale color is bracketed in by twin circles of near-black, one around the pupil, the other at the edge of the iris. It's nice to see them pale with relaxation as we stroll, not dark and stormy with emotion.

Eventually, our eyes meet and, unexpectedly, both of us glance away shyly. There is no malice, no threat, just this strange nervousness growing in the peace between us.

Wait…

Could this be why Kate is so hostile towards me?

For a moment, my steps falter, but I cover it with a smile for her curious look. How could I have missed this? It explains so much. Kate is attracted to me! It's an enticing thought on a variety of levels. I've never denied that this woman is very attractive and interesting, as is our team leader, but I never expected the fantasy to be any more than just that.

So now what?

We're tethered together for the rest of the week, unable to get more than three strides apart and now this new twist will color every move I… we make.

This should be very, very interesting indeed.

++ Kate ++

There's something new lurking at the edge of Ziva's smile, something new in her familiar body language. Her hand curls a little more snugly around my arm, the sensitive fingers fitting along the muscles of my forearm, her skin warm. The movement slides her knuckles against my ribs and breast, making my nerves jump and I'm not even ticklish!

I've never been able to figure Ziva out, not really, and it's always been a sore spot with me. Her direct ties to that insane bastard, Ari, don't help anyway. Yet, since stepping into Tony's spot, she has been nothing but loyal and willing.

The ache that rarely leaves me is reforming behind my eyes.

"Aww," Ziva mourns softly, a teasing lilt in her voice. "I had you relaxed for a bit. Perhaps I shall win, what's the word? Cuckoos? From Gibbs."

"Kudos," I correct, fighting a smile from her slip. The mixed idioms have become familiar and strangely endearing, testing me on occasion to figure out what she actually means. More often than not, I swear she does it on purpose.

"Hey Ziva! Kate!"

The male voice turns out to be Trevor the Leech and Ziva sighs heavily. This arrogant stallion reminds me of Tony, or at least the things about Tony I loathed. The way he leers is harmless but extremely annoying and I place my left hand over the fingers Ziva has pressed to my skin.

"How you ladies doing?" Trevor charms, or at least tries to.

"It's been a long day," I barely refrain from growling, not that he notices.

"Yeah, isn't this weather great? You should come down to the volleyball court and join in."

Before he can get a full head of steam, I raise a hand and level a look on him that my brothers and the Secret Service taught me. "Trevor, your friendliness is noted, but misplaced. We are stressed out federal agents under a very specific house arrest and not good people to flirt with. Please, we've got our own crap to figure out before we can be social with others."

++ Ziva ++

Poor Trevor visibly deflates and it takes every ounce of my self-control to choke down my laughter. Lamely, he rubs the back of his neck and tried to regain his fallen smile. "Yeah, well then, ummm… sorry to bother you. Have a good day."

As suddenly as he arrived, Trevor trots away.

With a supreme act of willpower, I stay silent for long enough that he must be out of earshot before the laughter escapes in a snort that escalates to hysterical giggling. One look at Kate's wry expression makes me lose it, howling with laughter, making my ribs and back ache.

It just gets better when Kate starts to chuckle along.

"'Not good people to flirt with'," I can't help but giggle helplessly, enjoying the humor in Kate's face. "That was perfect. Poor boy looked like you kicked him in the guts."

The sweet smile doesn't fade, but something bittersweet creeps in. "He reminds me of Tony at his most obnoxiously frat-boy."

"I wish I'd had a chance to meet him."

Tucking my hand into her body again, Kate tugs at me to continue her walk. With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Kate groans, "not me. He would have been such a pain in the butt over you. That boy worked his way through women like they were potato chips, and I have absolutely no idea how he did it! Anything with a pretty face and boobs and he was like a dog in heat. Sure, the guy got results, but it was like a circus act to get there. Though, I have to admit that things are annoyingly quiet without him around."

It's nice to witness this reminiscing over the man who left such a void in my team. None of them really talk about Tony DiNozzo and I've always been curious. "Is that why we fight?"

A startled look is the answer, Kate's eyes as guileless as I've ever seen them.

"I don't know why we fight anymore."

++ Kate ++

It's true. The reasons behind the unrelenting antagonism I've felt towards Ziva have grown more and more blurry over time. "For a long time, you were colored by Ari," I hedge, my voice growing harsh over that hated name. "But you haven't done anything to warrant anything but trust."

"Gibbs didn't shoot Ari."

The announcement stops me in my tracks, staring at my partner in disbelief. She looks hurt and sheepish, her pain obvious on her lovely face. In a brief moment of contemplation, a hundred tiny clues between her and Gibbs make sudden, perfect sense. "You shot him."

Miserably, Ziva nods. "No one else would have been able to get close enough to do so. I did not believe Gibbs and was at his home to witness the lies… Except that Gibbs was completely truthful. When Ari raised Gibbs' own sniper rifle against him, I had no choice but to shoot him."

Stunned, I start walking again and digest this important clue to my enigmatic partner. She shot her charge, whom she was obviously close to, in order to save a stranger.

Woodenly and without really consciously thinking about it, we have started walking again, moseying through the pine trees and the cooling autumn afternoon.

"Well," I hedge, not entirely certain what to say, "I'm glad that you did." My cringe isn't feigned a she gives me a disbelieving stare. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad that you saved Gibbs and you ended up here, you know, with us."

And it's finally the right thing to say.

With this strange new understanding between us, we end up finding our way back to the cabin, where Ziva tries to hide a healthy relief that we're here. When she balefully eyes her bed on the floor, I imperiously point to the bed where I slept last night. "You sleep there."

The enigmatic, strangely knowing smile flashing beneath those deep, dark eyes is a message I'm not going to examine.

++ Ziva ++

Abby's squeal of horror jostles me from sleep, my hand automatically curling around the gun beneath the pillow. Thankfully, I don't pull it out, squinting at the tall lab tech as she comes closer, looming over me.

"Karl finally found me and told me you'd fallen. God, are you okay?"

Now, Abby has always been Kate's friend, often barely tolerating me, and this gushing, friendly concern warms me. Smiling sleepily, I carefully stretch in the warmed bedding to test my soreness. "I think that I am okay, yes. A bit sore certainly."

To my astonishment, Abby actually sits on the edge of the bed and places a warm hand on my forehead, her green eyes intent. "You fell off a horse?"

Giggling rises up in my chest, escaping into the cool room. "It was worth it. I will do that again before we leave."

"You are one crazy woman," Abby marvels and we both laugh, the merriment rising in intensity as Kate steps back into the room. Shaking her head, she flops down on the mattress beside the bed where I notice an open book.

"Did you watch over me?" I ask my partner coyly and she looks disgruntled and shy.

"Yes. You snore."

Gasping in mostly mock outrage, I slap lightly at her shoulder. "I do not!"

The look of pure disbelief makes me laugh again, grateful that the fall seems to have caused more stiffness than pain.

Until I sit up.

++ Kate ++

The subdued note of pain startles me. Ziva never shows weakness, it's one of the things that drives me crazy about her. But there's no mistaking that animal note of agony, nor the tightening around the corners of her eyes.

Both of us are startled at my hand on her knee. Somehow, words are not necessary as, for the first time; the silent communication of partners is thick between us. Abby remains uncharacteristically quiet as I get onto my knees to help wrestle Ziva's legs around until she's sitting comfortably. Still silent, I stand and reach down, demanding that she rely on me.

And, after a moment of hesitation, she places her hands in mine so that I can lever her small weight to her feet. That right hip is definitely bothering her, I can see the subtle way she's favoring the left. Pulling her right arm across my shoulders, I smile a little shyly at her. "Looks like we finally did something right together."

The delight in her smile is not feigned.

After a short hobble around the cabin, Ziva's muscles unwind enough that she can move fairly easily and she's off to the bathroom to change clothes.

"You'll want long pants or sweats if you brought them," Abby suddenly pipes up. "It's gotten chilly out."

In the bedroom, behind the closed doors, I strip quickly and yank on the board shorts and bikini top before covering up again. It takes me a few minutes to rifle through my things to find the lone pair of jeans I packed and yank them over the shorts, then put on socks and sneakers.

Stepping into the main room gives me a shock.

I've never seen so much of Ziva's dusky skin before, as she stands in front of Abby, who is cheerfully tying the skimpy hot pink top into place. Inky curls are drawn into a tail, enhancing her near-nakedness. Low-slung fleece pants reveal the straps of that same audacious color, leaving little to the imagination.

++ Abby ++

Good grief, I only left them alone for an afternoon! Not only do they seem to be getting along famously, but I swear that Kate is showing signs of a serious school-girl crush.

And Ziva obviously knows it.

Very interesting.

"Hey Kate? Could you go grab Ziva's shoes? Thanks."

Turning the smaller woman in my hold, I stare soberly into her dark eyes.

"Don't mess with her Ziva. She's just starting to trust you. And if you break her heart, I'll find some way of making you suffer. I don't know how, but I'll think of something."

Amused, Ziva just smiles and nods as a confused Kate reenters the room. "What?" she asks, flummoxed when Ziva starts chortling.

Before anyone can speak, there's a tinny beep outside and Karl's voice rings out. "Come on g-women, your chariot awaits!"

Thankfully, Ziva's shoes are slip-ons so she can get into those and a button-up shirt quickly while I grab our trio of winter coats. "Thought we weren't going to need these," I comment wryly and hand them out so that we can join Karl outside.

"Evenin' ladies. Dinner's soon, so I thought I'd provide a safer type of horsepower. Hop in." Nimbly and gently, the electric mini-truck works its way down the valley side in the gathering evening. "Tonight's the firepit, so you two'll have the hot tub to yourself. I'll leave you the keys to this beast, Kate."

"Umm, thanks."

"I do need to get the canopy on it, though. I think we're getting rain tonight. Oh, and I got the keys to your squealers."

++ Ziva ++

The strange key to our ankle bracelets dangles from Karl's finger while she steers one-handed.

"I trust that you'll stick to the terms of your house arrest and put the things back on when you're done with the hot water. Just leave the key on EJ's desk and we'll get it back on your keys, Abby."

Freedom from the horrible, noisy things is set in my hand.

But I know that I will obey and put it back on. Because I trust Jenny and Gibbs and I like that Kate has to remain so close. That in itself is strange, the need to have this woman close.

At the eating hall, I'm hailed by Jeanne to come join them. In place of Trevor, Kate gets to sit at my left and Carrie is gone so that Abby can join us as well. While Joey and Abby hit it off like old friends, the Blanchards chat with Kate and I.

Dinner is pleasant, with good company and good food. Tonight is baked chicken, rich with spices, mashed potatoes, which I have never been partial too, and lots of salad.

"How can you not like mashed potatoes?" Kate questions me in mock indignation, hazel eyes twinkling with merriment. "What kind of freak are you?"

Recalling something Abby did once, I stick my tongue out at her, eliciting startled laughter from not just her, but half the table. Smugly proud of my accomplishment, I stab out with my fork, stealing a bit of the starchy mass and eating it with an exaggerated smile.

"Happy now?"

Making a comical face, Kate eyes my plate as though thinking about returning my thieving and I smile again. "I still have the knife."

For a moment, I think I've gone too far, her expression authentically startled.

But I once again earn her low, rolling laughter and I know that there will be little I won't do to earn that sound again and again.

++ Kate ++

In forty-eight hours, my life has been turned upside-down.

Really, I'm completely flummoxed, all road signs written in a foreign language.

But the drugging heat of the water is making it hard to think.

I've been trying to get my brain on track for awhile now. Dinner was nice, the trip down the stairs in the cold interesting, helping Ziva out of her outer clothes even more so. Getting into the big wooden tub had been yet another challenge, too much of her bare, warm skin against my hands as I helped.

It's like being stuck in a fog. I know there's something out there, looking for me, but damned if I know what it is.

"Stop thinking too much," Ziva advises lazily, eyeing the black cat, who has perched her small self on the narrow edge of the tub to supervise. "It makes you frown."

Disgruntled and not knowing why, I slouch down until only nose and eyes hover above the water. I'm watching Ziva too closely, desperately trying to puzzle… something out.

Karl's sudden appearance is a sobering relief. "Hey guys, I finally got the canopy on the truck, but I fear it's barely gonna help. It's really starting to pour out there. I'm surprised you can't hear it."

"Not over the bubbles," Ziva notes idly.

"Point. Anyway, the trails are going to turn to mud and I don't want you falling again. Think I can pry you away from your bath?"

Whining childishly in what I think is Hebrew, Ziva gathers herself to sit up and stretch. "I do feel better, thank you for this."

"No problem. Shoo, Elphie." Thusly dismissed, the black cat leaps away to regard us from close by. Then Karl snaps open a big towel waiting nearby and holds it open. "Can you get up okay?"

++ Ziva ++

While I might be quite capable of getting to my feet, I wisely don't incur the wrath of my partner and give her a look that brings her close. The soreness and stiffness are very faded, but a glance down reveals purpling contusions on my hip and shoulder.

"Looks worse than it feels," I reassure her and place my hands in Karl's towel-covered ones. It amuses me how the big woman studiously keeps her eyes on the wall above my head.

"Nice to see chivalry isn't dead," Kate comments wryly as I swing my legs over the lip of the tub and take the towel to wrap it around myself.

"I'll get a first aid kit for you guys and get you back to your cabin," Karl winces and escapes, leaving me chuckling.

"The girlfriend must be the jealous type."

Despite the wet swimsuit, I manage to drag my clothing back on for warmth and slip into my shoes while Kate does the same. Then Karl's back, dropping a small tin into Kate's hands and herding us into the dismal night.

"Didn't we just leave this sort of crap?" Kate calls out and all of jump as lightning splits the night.

"Well, that cancels any group activities for sure," Karl shouts over the storm. "Let me get you two home and start shuttling people out of this mess."

It's a quick, quiet ride back up the valley's side and Karl bids us a quick farewell before vanishing into the mess.

"Guess it's just you and me for now, huh?"

Once more, she makes me smile.


	4. Chapter 4

++ Kate ++

This is a new level of awkwardness, perversely reminding me of the stupid anthrax scare a while back. McGee, Gibbs, me… Tony, in the line of shower stalls, desperately washing up in fear of contamination. That memory triggers another, Tony and Gibbs talking about the honey dust and what it would do a woman's skin.

Something in me shudders and I'm quite sure that it's not revulsion.

On the other side of the flimsy sheet of slightly translucent plastic, Ziva's body moves under the hot pounding of the shower. That reality fills my mind and I cannot fathom why. There are no answers in the swirls of steam as they take the edge off the cold from outside.

Then the tap shuts off.

Time to hand over the towel I've been absently stroking while I wait. And, right on cue…

"Kate? May I have my towel?"

Eyes fixed on the wooden wall opposite me; I thrust the towel-bearing hand past the curtain, determined not to notice the flash of richly-hued skin in the corner of my vision.

"Thanks," she smiles, stepping out of the shower stall and I scramble to my feet in the tiny space we suddenly both occupy. There's a fumble as we try to switch places, bodies brushing up against one another like bad soft porn. Then her soft, caressing chuckle warms me even as my feet go cold.

"Kate?" she asks softly and I'm tongue-tied. "I think that your socks are wet."

Idiotically, I glance down in the small space between our bodies to find that I am, indeed, standing a very cold puddle.

Sigh…

++ Ziva ++

I'd love to point out how cute she is, shy and sexy and favorably awkward like this, but I don't dare. So I sit on the bench to give her some space to get into the shower herself. Once the curtain closes, I listen for the sound of clothing rustling, grinning when said clothes are tossed over the rail above. As she did for me, I take the still body-warm cloth and toss it with my dirty things before curling up sideways on the bench. This way I can push my bare feet into the pile for warmth.

"Water pressure's good," Kate comments idly and I have to smile at the strain in her voice.

"Yes."

The anklet is stark contrast to my skin and the pile of clothes. It's strange and a little sad that I have grown used to the thing in only a day and a half. Listening to Kate splash about in the shower spray, I know why it doesn't bother me. I like having this woman in my 'back pocket' as McGee might say.

Then, the most unexpected sound carries over the water.

Kate… is singing.

Not singing well, mind you, but not awfully either. Stunned, I raise my head, cocking my skull this way and that, trying to pick up the fragmented tune. As she has obviously forgotten that I am here, the volume increases and it takes real effort not to giggle.

"R-e-s-p-e-c-t, find out what it means to me!"

Carefully quiet, I hum along to the Aretha Franklin standard, enjoying this unselfconscious habit I had no clue about.

I wonder if she dances too.

++ Kate ++

Both of us only in towels, we creep to our room in the unexpected chill of the building and dive into warm sleeping clothes. With my back studiously to Ziva, I try to choke back the insidious mental images my perverse mind seems determined to feed me. The trim body I bore near-naked witness of today at the hot tub, slipping into sweatpants and a battered, fleecy shirt. The inky waterfall of damp ringlets falling over her chest and shoulders, leaving wet streaks on the cloth…

This has got to stop.

"Are you certain that you will be okay on the floor?"

The soft question is accompanied by the rustling of the bedsheets and I can turn without freaking out. Her capable fingers are raking at her curls, earning a pretty scowl. "I tried to keep my hair dry, but only partially succeeded. It will be a mess in the morning. Oh well."

"Here, let me help," my voice says with no input from upper brain. That same, insane impulse makes me reach for the hairbrush and cloth-covered rubber bands on the little desk by her bed. Then, oh dear lord, I have hopped up on the bed and insinuated my body between hers and the wooden wall.

Sanity is too late now, and I have little choice but to follow through on my obvious intent or try to explain running screaming from the building.

"Thank you, Kate," Ziva says quietly and I force myself to reach out and touch the wild near-black mass of her luxurious mane. It's dense and warm and silky and faintly wiry. I consciously ignore the way my fingers tremble as I reach out to draw the entire fall over her shoulders and start finger-combing.

"It's so different from mine," I marvel without thinking, petting over the mass and enjoying the tickle of the curls on my palms. She smiles over her shoulder before facing away from me again. That leaves me to run the brush through the extensive mass until all the strands lie gleaming and as orderly as I've ever seen them loose. Once more I pet her hair, thrilled at the sensations, before shaking it off and gathering up the entire mass in my hands. Tickling my fingers through it all, I separate the wildness into three hanks to expertly weave a long braid before tightly tying it off.

"There ya go," I brag happily and admire my handiwork. Ziva hums lazily and shakes herself out a bit to straighten out her slouch, hissing in sudden pain. Once again, my body reacts before my brain, wrapping my arms around her ribs and tugging her body into mine. "You okay?"

++ Ziva ++

This is the closest I have ever been to Kate. It's very nice, her body firm and curvy against my back, her encircling arms gentle. Relieved at not having to hold my sore body in an uncomfortable position, I relax fully into her strength. Maybe acting the 'tough guy' really is over-rated.

Both of us hear the front door open and Abby's voice call out, "you guys okay? There's some seriously biblical weather going on out there."

Regretfully, I sit up and call back, "in here, Abby."

"Slumber party!" she crows happily when she enters, soaked to the skin. "Excellent. Give me ten and I'll join you."

That gives me a bit of time to take my place again, ignoring how Kate's body stiffens momentarily. The gusty sigh that escapes me is not feigned as the comfortable heat of her body warms me. "Is nice," I hum lazily, turning my head and enjoying the feel of her hair on my face. There is no verbal response, but Kate swallows hard enough that I can feel it.

It doesn't take long for Kate to unwind, body softening, and I get a chance to shift my weight a bit for comfort. The fact that my nose is now nuzzled into her neck is just a bonus.

Is she feeling it too? Is the faint hitch in breathing an indication that she is weakening? Is the softening of her body an invitation, no matter how subconscious?

There is so much unspoken between us, so much confusion and accidental misinformation. Can we move past this? No answer is forthcoming as we sit cuddling in the quiet.

The steady sound of the shower and the storm outside, coupled with the warmth of Kate's body is drugging. Astonishingly, I'm ready once again to fall asleep. After a lovely while, the shower stops and Kate pats my tummy, speaking softly. "Sit up so that we can get you comfortable."

"Am comfortable," I find myself whining back, completely unwilling to move.

++ Kate ++

I know these sensations now, misplaced as they are. Warm and sensuous, I have been caught by the undertow of my own guilty arousal of Ziva's trusting weight in my arms. Fighting that is difficult, but my panic lying close in ambush wins out.

"Come on, Ziva," I wheedle, hoping I don't sound as desperate as I feel, "the whirlwind will be in any second now."

Craning my head back as far as my spine allows nonetheless has us cross-eyed close when I turn to look into Ziva's face. She's sleepy and disgruntled and I have the insane urge to kiss her relaxed mouth.

It takes another great effort not to shove her away and run like the building is on fire. Instead, I keep enough of a rein on my crazed emotions to squirm until Ziva grumbles and sits forward so that I can escape…

Just in time for Abby to burst in.

A look from me, to the bed and back again results in one perfectly sculpted black brow to rise in suggestive query. My faint flush is not feigned, but she thankfully lets it go.

"Well, no scary movies, but we can tell ghost stories and act like kids," Abby announces, tossing a paper sack next to Ziva. "You kids have been good, so I brought rewards."

Rewards turn out to be an impressive stash of junk food that makes Ziva light up and chuckle throatily when she first peeks, then dumps the goodies onto the bed. "Now it's a party!"

Imperiously, Abby flops down on my bed on the floor, launching into a story about some college escapade that only serves to remind me how buttoned up I really am. Living on the edge to me was sleeping with a coworker while in the Secret Service and look where that got me.

Sometimes, I depress myself.

++ Abby ++

The Queen of Moodiness is gearing up for a funk and I sigh internally. Kate is a wonderful human being, but sometimes she's a pain in the ass. "Park it, Todd," I order, scooting over a bit so that she can sit with me. "I can see that my wild tales are making you feel drab again." My evil grin makes Kate pause before I turn the expression on a grinning Ziva. "But she keeps conveniently forgetting about the tattoo."

Stiffly settling into the bed, Ziva laughs happily. "A tattoo? How wild of you, Kate!"

Embarrassed, Kate glowers half-heartedly at me. "You could tell her as well as I, since the silly thing is all your fault anyway."

Smug, I once more smile at Ziva, who's listening avidly. "It took Kate a bit to learn that I have magical powers of persuasion. Resistance is futile."

Kate pouts and Ziva laughs musically. Despite my initial misgivings, I'm thawing to the new girl because she's genuinely likable.

"Can I see it?"

Yep, Ziva really did blithely ask that and I'm impressed with her handling of the situation. Kate is always so paranoid about treading the straight and narrow that she misses out on an awful lot. But deep down inside, she doesn't want to be like that. This is how I manipulate her because, frankly, she doesn't really fight me all that hard. So Ziva's sweetly and innocently asked question, even though her dark eyes twinkly mischievously, gets the same helpless look that I get when I hit the right button.

Looking like a guilty little girl, Kate hesitantly climbs to her feet and gingerly loosens the drawstrings on her fleece pants. I've seen the tattoo and the smooth skin it adorns. Heck, I was holding her hand the entire time the tiny needle buzzed in her flesh, making her laugh and groan to my most hyperactive stories.

But the tat seems different now as the pants slide over her hips, revealing snug, high-cut underwear in soft yellow and the inked skin just below the hip joint on her right side. What makes it different is Ziva's gentle fingers tracing the mark, making the muscles visibly jump and twitch.

And suddenly, I feel as though I'm intruding on a very private moment.

++ Ziva ++

Touching her was dangerous.

Hours later, I can still feel the silky, warm skin against my fingertips as I traced the shape of the stained-glass heart and its attendant delicate apple blossoms. Oh sure, Abby tried to defuse the situation by pulling her shirt up to show off the impressive, intricate cross on her back and the dancing stick figures keeping it company high on her shoulderblades. It is beautiful art and I happily ran my fingers over the lines, but not with the same relish as touching Kate's skin.

Abby has been a buffer between us, the subtext thick in the air, but I'm exhausted and starting to have trouble keeping my eyes open. Wrapped around an extra pillow, I can't help but wish it were my standoffish partner. All this laziness has ground down the sharp edge of my attentions, leaving me softened and off guard.

So much so that I think the gentle hand stroking my skull is imagined for a long, blissful moment. "Ready for bed?" Kate asks gently and the fantasy seems almost within reach.

Sigh.

Yawning, I wiggle around carefully, still wary of my bruises, and accept the offered hand to get to my feet. "That was fun," I giggle at Abby where she collects candy wrappers and tosses stolen pillows back onto the unused beds.

"Totally! But you're in trouble now Ziva, because I know that you're fun now and they'll be no getting rid of me."

"I think I can handle it," I grin wryly and head for the bathroom to clean up for the night. In the mirror is my familiar reflection, my hair still neatly plaited back, reminding me of Kate's touch. Groaning, I carefully bend to rest my elbows on the counter and wash my face.

Is there a point to all of this? I like the flirting, relish it even, but if it's all for naught, it will eventually become frustrating. There's no doubt that Kate is attracted to me, but will she ever do anything about it?

  
++ Kate ++   


I hurried through my nightly routine, calling a goodnight to Abby as I headed back to the room I'm sharing with Ziva. And now I'm standing here, waiting for her to return to make sure that she can get into bed okay.

She doesn't keep me waiting long, padding back in on silent, socked feet and flashing me a tight, slightly uncomfortable smile. The dynamics have changed again, the waters murky and I am adrift. In an awkward silence, I hold her hands as she sits on the edge of the bed, before crouching to help her swing her legs into the bed.

"Goodnight," Ziva says quietly, her accent thicker than usual and I swear that she's upset about something… but have I earned the right to ask? After all, a day and a half of getting along hardly makes up for three months of crappy working conditions.

"Goodnight," my voice whispers back and the bedside lamp clicks, plunging us into darkness.

I don't expect to sleep, but a sound wakes me to the same darkness, my body heavy and disoriented. "Ziva?" I slur, propping up onto one elbow and blinking in shock at how cold it's grown in the cabin. "Brrrr! This is like being back home." Ziva only makes a sleepy, uncomfortable sound, blinking furiously when I grope around and turn the light on. "I'm going to go check on Abby. Make sure she's warm enough."

It's amusing that Abby doesn't even react to my presence, nor my tossing a couple of extra blankets over her somnolent body. That taken care of, I return to Ziva and do the same to both of our beds.

"Good thing there's no one else sleeping in here, huh?" I tease and Ziva smiles sleepily where she barely peeks out from beneath the thicker bedding. It's a sweetly endearing expression, almost childlike, particularly when she yawns and snuggles down to hopefully warm up.

After a good twenty minutes of almost soundless discomfort from the bed above me, I realize that it's not going to happen. I'm tired and cold myself, not to mention concerned for my partner, and I do something completely out of character.

Without turning on the light, I pick up my bedding and toss it over Ziva, earning a sleepy, confused noise. "Lie still," I instruct and peel the bedding back only far enough to slip in, crowding her slender body with my own. Imperiously pressing my back firmly into her front blends our body heat and Ziva's shivers begin to still as she nestles against me with a quiet, sighing moan.

It's surprisingly easy to sleep.

++ Ziva ++

My training has taught me to be awake, alert and ready to defend myself at a moment's notice. This new life in America has eroded that ability significantly, particularly this morning. Drugged and hazy with warmth and deep sleep, consciousness is a slow process. The bedding is nearly suffocating heavy, but the cold on my ear and scalp is proof as to why. But, more than the thick bedding is the blissfully warm body half trapped beneath me.

Not male, that much is blatantly obvious, even half-asleep. Even as smell and sound register, I know who this is. Sprawled out on her back, Kate cushions my bruised right half with her body. My nose and face are warmed in her rich hair, my hand curled up atop her chest, between the slopes of her breasts. Absently flexing my leg, nestled closely between Kate's, reassures me that little of my body pain is plaguing me at the moment.

Abruptly, Kate starts to wake and I bury my face even closer to her ear, smiling when her hand cups around the base of my skull. "Stop squirmin'," she slurs and tilts her head to nestle in, cheek to cheek. Still more asleep than awake, she is still again; breathing evening out as I lean my head back far enough to escape from the silky brown strands of hair.

In repose like this, Kate is far more relaxed and open, her expression unguarded and unexpectedly sweet. I enjoy this chance to admire the arched brows, the strong, straight nose and expressive mouth, dark lashes lying on her rounded cheekbones.

When those eyes flutter open, I force myself not to move, but hold her sleepy gaze. We're so close that I can see the myriad shades of brown and black that give her eyes their diverse shades and feel the changing breeze of her breath on my face.

It is a loaded moment, ripe with possibilities… and I cannot move.

A million what-ifs paralyze me and, even as I curse my cowardice, the slender fingers curled around the base of my skull flex into the thick rope of hair there and I desperately take the unconscious invitation. Screwing my eyes shut, I slither close to press my lips to hers, distantly noting…

That the hand on my neck follows.

++ Kate ++

This has been a long time coming. The sense of inevitability has been noted and grudgingly accepted. Either that or I'm just too damn sleepy to object to the soft press of Ziva's mouth to mine, her nose nestled against my own.

Then one of us sighs, a soft, accepting sound that encourages this gentle kiss. Tentatively, which is odd to me, because Ziva is rarely if ever tentative, she presses more firmly into me, her sinuous body shifting more heavily into mine. That warm hand flattens to my sternum, making me so very aware of her touch, and I press my head more deeply into the pillow to get a better angle.

It's lazy and sensual and more loving than I'd have thought, kissing this woman. A lifetime of rigorous religious training and recriminations has been reduced to static in my brain. My caressing hand leaves the thick rope of hair I braided last night to feel Ziva's neck, drifting over the vertebrae to her upper back.

Memories of my life crash through me as I drown further and further into this sweet kiss. These feelings are not new to me, glimpses ignored over my life, the pull to random members of the fairer sex. Not a common pull, not often enough to make me ask uncomfortable questions of myself. My various attractions to men over the years were and are authentic, but only part of the whole. Like sensation buzzing back into a limb deprived of blood and oxygen, Ziva has awakened a numb part of me.

The gratefulness is more powerful than dogma and I pull her closer, nudge at her teeth to get inside, tongue tracing the shape of her mouth, one of us moaning. This is no longer just a kiss, experimental and hesitant, but a learning of bodies that can and right now will lead to much more.

Then I run my hand over her supporting arm and note the faint tremors in the muscles that remind me of her injuries.

In a sinuous move that will impress me later, I break the kiss, tug her closer to my body, reaching down to hook her bruised leg and roll us both to our sides, pressing her to the wall in the narrow bed. Dilated earthy eyes stare at me and her mouth is showing the evidence of our kisses.

"I think," my voice breaks like a rusty hinge, making me clear my throat and Ziva to start smiling slowly. "I think that perhaps I've figured out why you've been irritating me so much."

++ Ziva ++

Despite the instinctual knowledge that laughing at a potential lover is a bad idea, I cannot help the strangled, little girl giggle that escapes. When Kate's wry expression deepens into a real smile, I give into the urge and dissolve into cleansing laughter. In spite of my sore shoulder, I pull her close, indescribably relieved when she willingly cuddles in. Like steam escaping, the giggling relieves my stress and relaxes me once more into her embrace.

But the giggling doesn’t last as the unexpected pleasure of her mouth burrowing in to press exploring kisses to my throat. She slides an anchoring hand around my neck while she teases over my skin, making me groan willingly. Her bossy taking over of this interaction is just fine with me right now, because it is proof of her sudden ease.

More than just ease, if the way that she's loving my neck is any indication! With a delighted throaty mumble, Kate impresses me with the slavish adoration paid to the sensitive skin of my throat, making me moan again. Oh, but she's good at this! I had a feeling that being the center of this intense woman's focus would be sexy and she is not a disappointment.

Nor does she hold back, growing bolder and more curious, mouthing my skin, licking and nibbling over the muscles and tendons, her throaty noises as sexy as her touch. I massage her spine and skull in abandoned encouragement, noting distantly that as my caresses grow heavier, so do hers.

When I gently rake my nails against her scalp, I yelp in surprised pleasure at her teeth near my jugular vein.

"S… sorry," Kate stammers, jerking her head back, the hazel eyes unfocused and heavy-lidded. Fondly exasperated, I give her trapped skull a little shake.

"Don't apologize," I chuckle affectionately and lean in to once more kiss her, hard and needy. "It's sexy."

She's so vocal! Soft little animal noises deep in her chest are irresistible and we kiss again for some indefinite length of time.

"I trust you," I whisper, feeling the truth of it, staring into her expressive eyes.

++ Kate ++

Dizzy and distractedly turned on as I am; it takes a moment for Ziva's words to register. With those dark eyes dilated and liquid, she watches me quietly and calmly, once again completely sure of herself.

"I… I really am sorry for being a jackass all this time," slips from me with painful honesty and I feel I don't deserve her gentle smile.

"You were hurting. We were both hurting."

There's more to her tone than I can completely decipher. But Ari, despite my understandable loathing of him, had meant something to her and his death pains her.

There are always at least two sides to every story and some of my festering hate of that madman drains away. His former handler, now my partner, deserves to be her own person in my eyes.

I'll need to find some discreet way to thank Director Shepherd for forcing Ziva on us.

The small scoff makes the soft, earthy eyes go curious, but I shake my head and pull her close to snuggle. "This is nice," I sigh, thoroughly enjoying the heat of our intertwined bodies, particularly in contrast to the room's bracing cold.

"Mmm, hmm," Ziva hums; her hand running over my side, abruptly reminding me of the illicit kisses and the heat between us is not just the heavy blankets.

This time I meet her halfway, our mouths gentle and nearly timid, feeling the bond that has so abruptly solidified and finding it surprisingly solid. The growing light of morning fades away again as I forcefully ignore the faded objections of my tattered morality and dogma.

By the time a car horn interrupts us, I have pressed Ziva flat to the bed, half draped over her, my hand high on her ribs. The warm hand she has slipped beneath my shirt and high between my shoulder blades makes me quiver in the best way.

"Not irritating you any longer?" Ziva purrs coquettishly, making me gasp when she gently drags her blunt nails down my back.

++ Ziva ++

Oh, how I want to continue to prod at Kate's self-control! I am both humbled and aroused at how easy it has been to get beneath her skin.

"Everybody alive?" Karl's voice rings out with a distinct strained edge to it and I hear the front door creak open. A moment later, Abby's sleepy voice can be heard.

"Guys?"

"We're awake, Abby," I answer and tug Kate down to rest her head on my shoulder. Even as her body complies, the door to our room opens and I crane my neck to smile wearily at Abby.

"You two have the right idea. I feel like a half frozen burrito."

She flashes a grateful smile at Karl when the big woman tosses a long, oversized jacket over her shoulders. "There're sheepskin boots for you too. Put them on and defrost. Sorry it took me so long to get up here. The storm not only beat the hell out of the entire camp, but the whole lower half lost power, including the barns and two cabins." She looks completely exhausted and is quite soaked. "It gets better. The security guys and some of my staff got almost everybody out before the bridge started giving way. Unfortunately for you four, you and several others are trapped with us for a bit."

After digesting that for a moment, Kate speaks up with an obvious smile in her voice. "At least there's no snow."

"Cheeky," Karl complains mildly and we three giggle. "It did everything but snow. Now, get your stuff together and get ready to move out. We're collecting everybody at the main building until we can check over the entire camp. I'll start the inspection while you get ready."

With a knowing smile, Karl ducks out and Abby shakes her head. "Well, you heard what the boss lady said."

Once Abby steps out, I take a moment to steal a last kiss from Kate, lingering over her warm mouth. "Will you keep me warm again, Kate?"


	5. Chapter 5

++ Kate ++

Feeling somewhat like a smitten puppy, I nod and allow her to chuckle and push me away. The icy air of the cabin is a shock to my warm body. "Jeez, she wasn't kidding. Come on."

There's no hesitation in my offered hands nor Ziva accepting them to stand. She murmurs something exotic in a miserable tone and I can't resist a quick hug before rushing to find our warmest clothing. Unfortunately, those are still soaking wet from the night before. Karl takes care of the problem by matter-of-factly grabbing blankets from the bed and bundling us up. She's very careful with Ziva's sore hip, winding the heavy fabric around her and gently tucking in the edge to keep it all in place. Like a friendly but gruff mother bear, she bosses us into gathering our things, shoving the wet stuff into pillowcases herself, before shooing all three of us into the blazing bright morning.

"Wow," Abby marvels and I silently agree. The camp has been battered far worse than we had thought. There are deep ruts carved by the running water and broken branches are scattered everywhere, some of them of a decent size. Our collective breath puffs white in the icy air as we admire for a moment, but Ziva quickly gives me a push to the little truck we're so familiar with now.

It's a quiet, tense ride back to the mess hall as Karl concentrates on avoiding the soaked, icy, rutted ground. "Stupid storm," she grumbles. "It's weeks too early for this shit. We haven't locked the place down for winter. Sorry about this guys."

"It's okay," Abby chimes in happily. "This is an adventure and the most time I've spent out of my lab in years."

"Careful, there, Abs," I warn with a smile, liking having Ziva pressed into my side, her hand in mine, hidden in my jacket pocket. "You'll get volunteered."

At the main building, I gather luggage, shooing a smiling Ziva off, while Abby fusses over the clearly exhausted Karl, who confesses that she hasn't slept yet.

"I require caffeine," Abby announces imperiously, dragging a weakly protesting Karl from the truck. "Even if it means Gibbs' nasty coffee. And a hot breakfast would be nice for all of us popsicles. Then, I get to be your driver for the day. You're too tired to be behind the wheel."

++ Ziva ++

"This isn't city driving," Karl sighs and is shushed.

"Go get into dry clothes and we'll meet you upstairs," Abby demands and grabs the rest of the bags. "Now march!"

A smart salute from Kate gets her poked in the butt with a laptop case and we retreat from the cold with much giggling. In what had been the mess hall, the tables have all disappeared and several couches have appeared before a fireplace I had not noted before.

"She found you!" EJ calls out happily from where she is holding court near the happy little fire. "More excitement than you were expecting for a vacation of sorts, eh?"

I like this small woman's maternal energy and happily sit beside her, delighted that her companions turn out to be the Blanchards. We catch up on the excitement, startled when the anklet squawks unexpectedly. Sheepishly, Kate wanders back over. "Sorry, I was going to set up a place to sleep over there."

"So, what are those things anyway?" Jeanne asks speculatively, gesturing at my ankle. There's no loss or gain in the truth, so I shrug and tell them.

"Our boss was angry that we wouldn't get along."

"So, the team came up with these," Kate shrugs, leaning over the back of the couch so that we are nearly touching.

"Well, you seem to be getting along just fine now."

The comment gets me thinking and I turn my head to meet Kate's shadowed eyes where they gleam in the sunlight. It would be so easy to fall for her…

"We found a middle ground," I say softly, earning a loving grin from Kate and gentle chuckles from our companions.

"Healthier outlet," Jeanne asserts and I can't argue.

++ Kate ++

A drier, slightly less ragged Karl brought me the key with the reasonable assumption that the bosses would understand the squealer being removed. That is how I have found myself chilled and dirty in the stables after herding everything from goats to rabbits to a very ornery turkey. Mickey has been kind enough to withhold her amusement at my city-girl antics, save a few girlish giggles. For such a wiry, skinny thing, she's tough and has a gift with the creatures of this place. And her bossiness is gentle and borne of experience, assuring that I differ to her expertise.

I'm in the attic now, a second story packed with bales of hay, helping Kris drop flakes of the stuff into the hoppers below. It's dusty and tiring, but at least it's warmer than the level below.

"I'm going to need a shower again," I groan and Kris chuckles in sympathy.

"Or the boss' hot tub?"

These women have been good company, but I really miss Ziva. The shift in perceptions is still stunning, from the grinding irritation of these last few months to this burgeoning need.

"Or a nap," I yawn, missing the warmth and companionship of last night.

"Yeah, if I had that sexy girl waiting for me, I'd want to be elsewhere too!" Kris chortles, endlessly amused at herself and flashes me an amused and sheepish smile. "Not that you're not hot too, Kate, but you're right here and I generally try not to leer in public and I should just shut up now, huh?"

For a moment I can only stare at her, before laughter tickles my throat, erupting into the hayloft. The work goes quickly after that and soon we've left Karl and Mickey to watch over the barn and the propane heaters, returning to Abby and the little truck to make our way over the soggy, rutted grounds.

"Lotta repair's gonna have to be done," Kris muses resignedly and grins at my smile. "It's worth it to live out here. There's a freedom to this life that civilization can't touch."

I murmur an affirmative, but I'm far more interested in climbing the wooden stairs to rejoin the others, thrilling at Ziva's ready smile.

++ Ziva ++

It's good to see the woman smile, the cloying anger and depression no longer so much a part of her. In fact, she looks quite pleased wither herself, if not tired and filthy. Grinning wildly, she bounces over to shake her head like a dog, showering us in shreds of hay. "Barn's clean," she announces happily, making me giggle and EJ to 'tsk' in mock disapproval.

"And you're not! Get your butt downstairs and shower. You smell. There's a door off the living space to the left. Shower's at the end of the hall there."

"'Kay," Kate chortles and bounces off again, leaving a tired Abby to flop down with a quiet comment.

"I'll go next, I promise, boss lady."

That makes EJ chuckle and pat her leg before she grins at me. "Well, at least you know that she missed you," she says placidly and I can't help the embarrassed grin. I've spent a quiet day with her and the Blanchards, mostly doing exactly what I'm doing right now, holding skeins of yarn for EJ's busy hands. She's taught me the basics of the craft of crocheting in between winding balls of the colorful strands.

It doesn't take long for Kate to return, her hair hanging wetly and a large pad of paper in her hands. She looks strangely sheepish and beseeching as she minces over to EJ. "Ummm… I hate to be pushy, but I saw this and I was hoping I could…" Her voice trails off in embarrassment and EJ grins.

"Borrow a few sheets?"

Gratefully, Kate nods. "I've had a rough few months and haven't had the urge until I saw this and suddenly it hit me."

"Karl will be happy to share. Have fun."

Still looking faintly nervous, but completely happy now, Kate hesitates a moment before leaning over and rubbing her cheek along mine, sneaking in a little kiss to the corner of my mouth before retreating to the fire. Flopping down with her jacket bunched under her as a pillow, Kate astonishes me yet again by flipping open the pad to clean sheet and attacking the paper with a thick black ink pen, making bold black strokes.

++ Kate ++

I'm very aware of Ziva's curiosity and astonishment at this part of me I've never shared. The sensation of pouring some part of myself onto the paper rushes through me in bittersweet ecstasy. While I feel the urge to commit my enigmatic partner to paper as I have not before, I fight it and instead immortalize another and more recent chapter in my history.

"It is Baloo!" Ziva exclaims in delight as the shape forms and I begin adding details. As she's not hovering at my shoulder, I don't mind being watched. Unlike Tony, who would characteristically torment me while I tried to get anything done. The thought makes me pause and stare into the fire for a long moment. Despite his being such an endless pain in the ass, I still miss him. That brings me back to Ziva, still watching me silently.

Another crossroads face me, another opportunity to open up to this woman. It takes some resolve to sacrifice my privacy and flash her a weak, but welcoming, smile. Curious, Ziva obeys my gesture to come close, grabbing an oversized pillow to sit on. I'm so very aware of her near my shoulder, but do my best to force my attention to the paper once again.

"I was thinking about Tony," I muse quietly, pen scratching quietly over the paper, soothing me. "He was such a pain about letting me get anything done. It was like working with an eleven year old hopped up on sugar. But he did keep me on my toes, he and Gibbs both. When I met them, I had no clue what they did or how. Tony, leering and sexist, Gibbs bossy and overbearing. But, over time, I grew to respect them both."

Without even consciously thinking about it, I flip to a clean page and let my memories pour onto the surface. That cocky grin and playboy haircut and rugged pretty-boy looks appear on the white surface.

"I'm surprised I remember this much," I muse softly, staring at a quite decent likeness of the departed Tony. This is how I remember him, full of spastic, little-kid energy, tossing out his flirting and dubious charms like beads at Mardi Gras. Not the dead meat left behind when the bullet snuffed him out.

The gentle hand on my back is grounding and I doggedly finish the details of the sketch, immortalizing my old partner in a way that he would have liked.

++ Ziva ++

She doesn't quite hum exactly, while engrossed in this, but her body buzzes with a different and intoxicating energy. In truth, I want to curl up beside her and rest my head in the small of her back and bask in this moment.

Before I can, however, Becky, the cook, bustles in. "Anybody hungry?"

My stomach whimpers, but Kate's snarls like a wild animal, making me snicker. Becky smiles benignly and hands over two plates, one with sandwiches and the other with a green salad and a cold pasta salad.

"Hot roast beef, turkey salad and vegetarian. Chicken soup is coming next. Eat up now, because there won't be anything elaborate for dinner."

Once the others have their plates, Becky vanishes to reappear with a big pot and a stack of bowls on a cart, ladling out the delicious soup out generously. I've never seen Kate eat like this, like a starving woman offered a feast. It once more illustrates how repressed she has been the entire time that I have known her.

Memories of last night and this morning make me shy and I duck away from her curious look by focusing on my soup.

Well, not the entire time I've known her…

I'm torn between bored out of my mind and relishing the completely foreign relaxation that has taken over my life. The livid bruises on my shoulder and hip I am capable of ignoring, but EJ will hear none of it.

After we've eaten, board games appear and we all gather together. It's a fun group, we five guests and an equal number of employees. We tease Robert about being the only male in the whole camp, "at least on two legs," Karl cackles, as we all spoil the dogs and cats that have been gathered in the large building. As the evening wears into night, Kate has grown complacent about our closeness and eventually I find myself curled up beside her, leaning into her loose embrace. Her curvaceous body is comforting and a nagging torment to what has transpired between us.

++ Kate ++

As it's obvious no one here gives a damn, my ingrained resistance to this thing with Ziva has grown weaker and weaker as night gathers around us. Curled up like a cat, Ziva is seated sideways on the couch, her toes tucked under the pillow that Mickey leans on. Ziva's upper body lies halfway on mine, my arm slung around her shoulder and chest, stroking above the bruising on her hip. On my other side, I'm wedged into Abby, who has been her usual vivacious self once she cleaned up and defrosted.

My physical tiredness is catching up to me and the ambience is softening me further. Weary, warm and comfortable, I find myself leaning into Ziva, nose in her rich hair. A round of laughter wakes me, blinking and I stretch without jostling Ziva too much. She only hugs my arm and continues in her conversation with Mickey that I abruptly realize is not in English. By the sound of the words, I'm going to hazard a guess that it's German.

"Ah, Kate," Abby suddenly exclaims, dragging away my woozy attention. "You can help settle this argument. Caff-Pow or Dr Pepper?"

Making a face, I pooh-pooh my pal, "neither. Yuck. Coffee's bad enough but it's a matter of survival around Gibbs."

"Party pooper," Abby sulks for a micro-second and is once more deep in her animated argument with EJ over their favorite soda pops. The tone of the conversation between Mickey and Ziva changes suddenly, becoming more animated before cumulating in a round of laughter. Patting Ziva's knee, the horsewoman stands up and stretches like a cat.

"It has been a long day and we need sleep," she announces and flashes Karl a pointed look that the big woman doesn't react to for a moment. Then she gets the hint and sets her beer aside, grinning at the Blanchards, whom she's been talking too.

"Yeah, I agree. Goodnight everybody. Sleep in and take it easy. There hopefully won't be any more surprises, eh?"

We all groan in agreement and wish them a good night.

++ Ziva ++

With no small relief, I can stretch my legs out to try and get some feeling back in them. Leaning back hard into Kate, I enjoy that she doesn't fight my weight, but cradles me comfortably. "I'm not accustomed to being so lazy."

"At least we'll be well rested when we get home," Kate chortles, her voice cracking into a huge yawn.

"Bed," I hear myself demanding, climbing to my feet to turn to my partner and offer a hand. The knowing smirks of the others are a near-tangible sensation, but I ignore it. Suddenly nervous, Kate hesitates a moment before setting a hand in mine and allowing me to help her stand. We quietly bid the others goodnight and, not releasing her hand, I lead the way to our new sleeping arrangements.

"Nice," Kate comments as she looks around the space. It's a smaller room used for everything from a classroom to storage for a collection of what EJ told me are 'craft' items. It still looks like junk to me, but what do I know? There is a large bed on wheels pushed against the largest storage cabinet, piled high with pillows and bedding. It's very inviting and I want to take advantage of it, but something makes me hesitate.

The urge pays off when Kate's hands come to rest low on my ribs, her body warm against my back.

"I missed you," she whispers, the sound harsh with emotion. It's both sweet and sexy, her need, and I promise myself again to not take advantage of that. So I wrap my arms around myself, covering her hands with my own.

"Do you dance, Caitlin?"

There's surprise and pleasure in Kate's eyes when I turn in her embrace, draping my arms over her shoulders. Humming some half-forgotten tune, I tug her into my body, feeling her arms coil around me and her body melts into mine. It's a relaxed upright cuddle where we move our intertwined bodies to my soft crooning.

++ Kate ++

There's no easy way that Ziva could know how much I love to dance. Any more than I could know what a beautiful voice she has. Smooth and sure, her tune is clear and flawless where she sings softly by my ear.

The shift is near-complete, all things negative I felt towards her evaporated in the heat of this warmth between us. And she's been so perfect with me, gentle and patient and coaxing. Some small part of me sneers that she could be playing me.

Yes, I suppose she could. All of this could be one great illusion, the Wizard behind the curtain fooling me with smoke and mirrors. Yet… I cannot bring myself to care.

This time, I initiate the kisses, shoving away the voice of reason, religion and repercussions. She makes a pained noise at my hand stroking over that spot on her hip and I remind myself to be careful. Like this morning, kissing this woman is more than just a physical interaction. There is that very real sensation of coming home…

The shift happens suddenly, like being dropped with a thud. From gentle to ravenous, the kissing goes hot and wanting, Ziva growling like some sort of wild animal, her fingers fisted in my hair. The edge of danger is strangely erotic, her nipping teeth adding to that fire. My hands, seemingly of their own will, drop down and cup the tight curves of her fine ass. Muttering something incoherent, Ziva pulls back to glare at me in a truly hysterical combination of hot and surprised.

I laugh and goose her again, liking that she squirms against me. "Like that?" falls from my lips in the most leering tone I've ever heard. I sound like a horny frat boy… or Tony.

Oddly, the thought is appealing and I can almost hear my old partner egging me on, the pervert. Swallowing the odd sense of hilarity that produces, I lean in to lave attention on Ziva's neck. Like this morning, she likes it, groaning and squirming in response. My shirt is jerked loose from my jeans and her bare hands rove my back, scratching lightly at the straining muscles there.

"Yes," she hisses, nipping my ear and sanity recedes further from my mind.

++ Ziva ++

Enough of this! Abruptly shoving Kate away, I keep a fistful of her shirt to limit the distance between us. Urgently, I yank the material, stripping it over her head and violently throwing it off into the corner, wincing at the jostled bruises. Cupping my face, Kate grins and kisses my nose, chuckling, "relax, David. I'm not going anywhere."

"Easy for you to say," I whine, smoothing my hands over her glorious skin, wandering towards the swath of fitted silky material holding her magnificent breasts hostage.

"No," she chuckles again, turning to watch me coyly over my shoulder as I fumble with the tiny clasps on the offending garment. "It's not. But I do like seeing you all flustered like this. It's cute."

Any waspish retort dies on my lips as she turns and I am stunned at how beautiful she is half naked like this. For all of her dark hair, her skin is pale, nipples a deep rose, puckered in the cool air of the room. The teasing grin isn't helping, making me all too aware that I am salivating and staring.

Before I can get awkward and shy, Kate's smile goes wicked and she reaches out to grab the front of my sweat pants and bodily yank me closer. I am kissed once more, held happy hostage by her glorious mouth and the feel of her chest against mine, our skin separated by only my t-shirt. Then, her fingers are scrabbling carefully at the soft material, drawing it away from my bruised shoulder and over my head to be tossed away.

How good we feel, naked curves nestled, melded at chest and belly and mouth. This is what I have wanted from her for so impossibly long. There is something so compelling about Kate, something in her personality and passion and dogged determination. Ari's fascination makes even more sense now.

Cringing, I pull away from Kate's seductive mouth and bury my face in her hair, feeling dirty somehow.

"You okay?" she asks so gently, hugging me, stroking my bare back comfortingly while I cling tightly to her neck. I want to be completely honest, blurt out the entire squalid, dirty story of what Ari really was to me… and what really happened to him.

++ Kate ++

"No," Ziva whispers, her voice suddenly painfully vulnerable and childlike. "Ari."

Whoo boy.

"I think I need to be sitting down for this," I say only half-jokingly, my ardor cooled more effectively than a bucket of ice water. "Come on."

With some maneuvering, we get into the same position we awoke in this morning. Warm and soft and tense, Ziva lies half on my body, her dusky skin glorious against mine. Something about that bastard is really conflicting her.

"Do you miss him?"

Yes, I really did just ask that.

"I miss the Ari I remember, not the monster that killed your partner and tortured you and your coworkers."

Sighing heavily, I do my best to be objective about this. At some point, Ari Haswari had been one of the good guys. I don't know what made him go bad, nor do I care. In the end, it got him killed and deservedly so. Even if that death still obviously pains Ziva. So many lives damaged by his madman's legacy…

"I didn’t want to believe Gibbs, but he was right about Ari. I still barely believe that I did it… pulled the trigger on…" her voice breaks, hot tears dripping to my skin, "my brother."

Good God.

++ Ziva ++

Part of me cannot believe that I've said it. Part of me knew that I must, right here and right now, or lose this woman's trust in the future. The wound on my soul is still a gaping hole.

It seems an eternity passes while Kate lies rigid and cold, until I cannot stand it and squirm to escape. One strong hand clamps hard into my skull, pinning me to Kate's body and she 'shushes' me gently.

"I suppose holding onto all my negative emotions just gives him what he wanted," Kate muses quietly, her hand absently caressing my skull as I lie perfectly still. "For whatever twisted reason he needed to terrorize Gibbs and myself, dwelling on that gives him power even after his death. What he did was unforgiveable, yes, but Tony wouldn't want me to be still festering over this." Something warm and tentative blooms warm in my heart and I dare crane my neck to peer at her. In response, Kate tilts her head so that our eyes can meet. "Besides, his legacy isn’t all bad."

"What do you mean?" my voice asks, crackling like a rusty hinge.

"I got you."

Again, my eyes blur with tears, too many emotions to keep contained leaking from me. Hugging me close, Kate rolls us to our sides, pressed eye to eye, her smile soft.

"As effective as we could be when being a pair of prickly bitches; imagine what we'll be like now that we're getting along."

Sobbing and laughing, I grip her close, ignoring the objections of my bruises as I crush her close. Those loving lips kiss away my tears, drink in my kisses when I sink into her with a new need. Nakedness comes dizzyingly fast, her heat melting into mine. Wet and desperate, we move together in a dance as old as time, making our own music together.

And we are transformed.

++ Kate ++

Waking is a different experience for each individual. Naturally, I like to wake slowly and leisurely like this, though extensive training has mostly suffocated that. It's late; I can feel it in the heaviness of my body and the caffeine deprivation behind my eyes.

Then the memories focus and I am suddenly very, very aware of the heated body curled tightly to my back.

Last night was a revelation in so many ways. Not just the sex, though that was very, very good and my mouth curls in a feline smile. Not just the blissful carnality, but the inevitable conclusion of the changes between us.

For a long time, I lay quietly, feeling the press of Ziva's body to mine, basking in the push and pull of her breath, the pulse of her heartbeat. Part of me wants to roll over and wake her, but I resist for a long time.

But eventually, more base needs than Ziva's closeness make me squirm around, waking her with a petulant whine. "Good morning," I whisper as sleepy brown eyes blink open and a smile warms her face.

" _Boker tov_ ," she slurs softly and I'll assume that she's returned my greeting. Frankly, kissing her relaxed mouth is far more interesting than a Hebrew lesson right now. It's not a deep kiss, morning breath and all, but a warm and sincere one nonetheless. Then one of the things bothering me makes itself shrilly known once more.

"Much as I'd love to stay in bed all morning and cuddle, I need to use the head desperately."

Laughing quietly, Ziva gives me a quick, hard hug and pushes me away so that we can scramble from the bed and dress.

"Good lord," I can't help but breathe as I finally see the extent of the purpling over her shoulder and hip. Grinning teasingly, Ziva pauses in covering up and leans over to kiss me again.

++ Ziva ++

Kate is so adorably concerned about the raw contusions. While I normally would hate the fussing, I don't mind her doing it.

"They'll heal," I murmur against her lips, enjoying the close view of her beautiful eyes. "Besides, they brought us together and that makes them more than worth it."

Grinning bashfully, Kate flushes lightly and rests her forehead against mine for a moment. Then her anxious squirming starts again and I laugh and wave her off. Moments later, we're covered up enough to be presentable and evacuate into the larger room. Then I give Kate's hand a last squeeze and release her to go our separate ways.

No one is moving about, but my nose leads me to fresh hot coffee. Around the smoldering fireplace, the Blanchards are sleeping on a bed that has appeared from within the largest of the couches and Abby lies on one of the other ones, cocooned in blankets.

Enjoying the peace, I take my cup of coffee and find a deep window ledge already occupied with the cats from downstairs. The fluffy black and white one scoots away as I approach and the other three eye me in various stages of curiosity. The gray one and the brown and white tabby decide to ignore me, but as I take the spot left by the cat that ran, little black Elphie crawls into my lap to purr.

That is how Kate finds me, her low chuckle barely crossing the large room as she gets her own coffee before joining me. "Awwww," she coos, stroking the cat and kissing me and leaning into my body. "You've made a friend."

Ignoring the cat, I reach up to weave my fingers into her wildly mussed hair and pull her down for a more lingering kiss.

"'Bout damn time," Abby's sleepy voice startles us both and we look over to where she peers sleepily over the back of the couch. "I figured at least half your problems were unresolved sexual tension. Too bad I couldn't make any bets with the guys; I could have made some money off of you two."

++ Abby ++

After half a day of heartrending impressions of 'deer in the headlights', Kate finally calmed. No one here gives a damn that they've taken the plunge into being lovers. Not even the married couple! And the entire staff here is of the girl-loving variety, so they're jazzed. Hopefully these golden days of easy acceptance will give them a chance in the big, bad world outside.

Yes, I worry for them. That's what friends are for. I want them to be happy and safe and successful. I don't want some sexist asshole to see them differently because they have taken 'partners' one step further.

And they obviously haven't even looked at the lifestyle and religious angles at all. Particularly in Kate's case, because for whatever reason her religion weighs more heavily on her, despite the gold Magen David around Ziva's neck. Part of her seems poised for all that Catholic fire and brimstone and that makes me sad.

After a couple of quiet days, full electricity is restored and the phone landlines are right behind that. A call to Gibbs assures him that we're fine despite the bridge being out. When it becomes obvious that the bridge is shot for a good long while, Karl brings up big ole Baloo, who gets to snuffle Ziva over, obviously remembering her. Delighted, she hugs his head and allows Karl to cup her hands and gently help her to his broad back. Kate mounts up behind her and they get their wish to ride him one more time, Karl and I following the plodding mule up the valley side. With seemingly no effort at all, Baloo ferries us and our things across the ravaged streambed and knee-deep water. Once he's done, he wades back across and stands placidly beside Karl who waves goodbye until we walk out of sight.

"We're going to have to come back," Kate muses and I smile when Ziva takes her hand and gives it a squeeze.

I take advantage of Gibbs letting me get away with anything and we paint LA red for a day and a half before reluctantly climbing aboard our 747 to cross the continent to home.

It's time to return to our real lives, but as I watch Kate and Ziva sleep, leaning against one another, fingers intertwined, I know that some things will never be the same again. Settling in to sleep myself, I promise to do everything in my power to keep them safe.

If they even need my help!


	6. Chapter 6

++ McGee ++

The obnoxious, lingering quiet of the bullpen is suddenly pierced by a chorus of feminine laughter. Sure enough, the rogue agents and Abby have returned.

Physically, they are no different, but there has been an obvious fundamental shift among them. Clustered together, Kate, Abby and Ziva are positively aglow with happiness.

"Hey!" I call out. "You're back! How was camp?"

Excited and hyper, they trip all over one another to chatter at me, making me laugh happily that they're back. It hasn't been right with them all gone. Abby yanks me into a crushing hug, shoving me off into Kate's unexpected embrace before I get a real shock when Ziva hugs me as well.

I don't catch most of what they're saying, but I couldn't care less. In the long run, I'll hear all the stories. Right now, I'm just thrilled that they're all here and in one piece. And, better, the gamble seems to have paid off as there is a palatable sense of affection and trust among them.

The sensation of the ghosts that haunt us retreating a bit is almost a physical sensation. I can almost see Tony at the desk Ziva took over, sprawled back in his lazy way, smirking like the world is one big joke. Perhaps now that Kate is going to be okay, he can rest in peace.

To my enormous amusement, these 'sisters' of mine have made me a collection of classic cheesy camp crafts that include a heavy mug glazed a dark blue and a pencil cup made of popsicle sticks and covered in red paint and wildlife stickers.

"I'm touched guys," I gush over the gifts and they giggle and disperse to desks to drop their stuff off.

Then Abby squeals deafeningly, "Gibbs!"

++ Gibbs ++

The energy on this floor feels different and I'm not at all surprised to hear the familiar sounds of my missing team members. For a moment I can observe them without their knowing. Even in these short moments, I can see that the experiment worked. For the first time since Tony's death…

I feel like I have a real team.

Then Abby spots me and I brace myself and my coffee for the assault. She doesn't disappoint, her tall frame rocking me back onto my heels and making me chuckle softly. "I've missed you, Abs," I murmur, squeezing her back and ignoring the hot coffee sloshed onto my hand. "Good to have you back." Then louder I say with a smirk, "did they behave?"

"They were the best," she gushes, pulling me over to the cluster of desks. "They didn't even need leashes after the first couple days."

Smirking at my female agents, I joke smugly, "So my evil plan worked?"

Rolling her eyes, Kate snarks, "yes, o great wizard. I suppose you're going to gloat now?"

"Oh, a little," I deadpan, quietly thrilled that she's her old self again. Part of me was authentically worried that she would never move past Ari and Tony and never truly trust Ziva. But that ship has obviously sailed, their ease a palatable thing as they move about, settling their things and coming over to greet me personally.

"I told her the whole truth about Ari," Ziva confesses quietly and I'm glad to see that the shadows in her dark eyes are so much less than they have been. My smile reassures her and I turn it on Kate when she sashays over.

"You're going to have to find a loophole in Rule Twelve for us," she deadpans, only just loudly enough for me to hear.

My expression of shock is not feigned.

Nor is my laughter.

++ Ducky ++

Over my many years, many have left an impression on my life. Few more so than those that fall beneath Jethro's wings. Standing beside the elevator, I soak up the ambiance for a long moment, basking in it. For the first time since Ari's madness nearly tore us apart, the ghosts have receded to the shadowy corners. My favorite team laughs uproariously at something Caitlin is gesticulating wildly about and for a moment I would swear it's as though Tony himself has possessed her from beyond the grave.

Rather than saddening me, the thought is comforting. And it appears as though Ziva has at last been accepted into the fold, since she is leaning against Abigail and watching Kate fondly. For a moment I can see, just a bit, what was lost in Ari. At some point, he too must have tread this good and thankless path, before his darkness consumed him. In her, there is hope and that gives me an opportunity to move beyond my rage just a bit.

When Kate spots me, she stops in mid-word and I must say watching her face light up gives me a thrill. Oh, not so much a 'dirty old man' thrill, though there may be just a hint of that, but a thrill that she is so blatantly glad to see me. Ducking around Abby, who whines that it's not fair that she gets the first hug, I am bodily accosted. Murmuring my name almost tearfully, Kate hugs me tightly enough to make me cough and I give her a squeeze back. "So good to have you back my dear."

The hazel eyes are bright with emotion, happy confusion radiating from their expressive depths. "It was a great week. Strange, but great."

There is more, much more, but I let it go. My role as confidante is a treasured one and they all come to me in their own time. Abigail does her best to throttle me with affection and I'm gratified to see how well-rested she looks. Poor Ziva hangs back, obviously wanting what I smile and reach out for, gathering her in for a tender hug. "Welcome to the family, my dear."

Rattled, though certainly not in a bad way, Ziva sticks close to me while the other two go scrambling for presents. My delighted laughter is not feigned over the colorful crocheted handbag for mother that Caitlin happily tells me is made from strips of plastic grocery bags. For me they have sculpted and glazed a quite lovely little winged snake, colored with childlike abandon in iridescent green and purple.

"Like your own guardian caduceus," Abby explains happily and I know that I will treasure the charming little thing forever.

++ Jenny ++

It's a damn good thing I was as prepared as possible for the rigors of this new job. Though the day to day reality of it is still daunting. Tired, I yank my glasses off and carefully rub my eyes. How I wish I could just wear jean to work and not have to make myself up to corporate idealized standards. Maybe I should cut my hair off to simplify things a bit?

The mental wanderings stop when there is a knock and Cynthia sticks her head in when I holler. "You should come see this," she grins and I'm intrigued by her delight.

From the balcony above, I can look down at the position of honor Gibbs and his team hold in the center on the bullpen. The space is alive with energy and happiness and I'm faintly astonished that Todd is in the middle of it. The woman hasn't exactly been a ball of sunshine since my arrival here. Berating myself, I am reminded once again that she lost her partner and everyone in law enforcement deals with that in their own way. It's just that watching Ziva get hurt and shunned grated on my nerves.

But that's obviously changed as Ziva, tucked up between Abby and Ducky, jumps into the story and earns an affectionate glare from her partner. Oh thank god the summer camp worked. All of us were out of ideas and I was not looking forward to having to shoot somebody.

Ironically, it's Todd that spots me first, halting in mid-word, her expression running quite the gamut of emotions. Part of me is amused and part is aggravated. We've butted heads from the start, this strong-willed woman and I. She's smart and stubborn and has an attitude that keeps everyone on their toes. Exactly the kind of personality that I both like and drives me crazy at the same time.

I'm pleasantly surprised when Kate smiles and hesitantly gestures that I should join them. Imagine my delighted surprise when each woman present me with a cute little birdhouse made from children's craft supplies. Each is as individual as the woman who made it and the signature of each personality is written in structure and color and decoration.

"We couldn't agree on a look," Abby explains, also acting more warmly towards me than she has before. "So we each made one. There was a lot of time to kill."

I chuckle in appreciation of her ironic tone at the end there and admire the little popsicle-stick structures. "These are really adorable, you guys. Thank you!"

++ Ziva ++

It had been a wonderful welcome home, even with Jenny eying me speculatively. She knows me well and I have a feeling that a lengthy confession is in my immediate future. We spent a few hours preparing to get back to our duties tomorrow, leaving along with McGee and Gibbs at the end of regular business hours. A few more hours at a bar passed pleasantly, but I'm happy to be alone with Kate on this last night of our idyll.

The condo is nice, compact without being cramped and with a nice view of a nearby park. Kate's personality, the real one that I've been getting to know this last week, is stamped all over the space. From the dark wood furniture and luxurious couch to the calming, rich colors on the walls, this space is an accurate reflection of her. Unlike my pre-furnished apartment that still hardly looks as though someone lives there.

It hadn't taken any effort at all to get me here.

"No mom," Kate's sarcastic tone comes through as she reenters the room and hands me a wine glass. "They don't really issue partners like ball point pens. Of course I'm talking about the one I've been complaining about for months now." Quirking a smile around the mouthpiece of the phone, she is impossibly lovely to me. "Well, I was wrong. Yes, I'm admitting that. Ha, ha, funny mom." During the next long pause, I can't help but smile at the disconcerted look on Kate's face at whatever is being said in the receiver. "Tell you what. I'll bring her by at some point. Yes! I promise, but give us a chance to get to know each other first, okay? Good. Yes, I'll see you Sunday unless work nails me to the wall again. Bye mom."

The dose of normality is just what I need after hovering at her third story windows, perversely wondering if anyone is watching me… us. I've grown weary of the understandable paranoia as my life has grown more and more normal. In a fit of perversity, I force myself to ignore the open curtains and reach out to grab Kate as she slaps the phone shut.

There, for all the world to see, I kiss this miraculous lover and partner of mine, relishing the very rightness of this thing between us.

++ Kate ++

There had been no dissuading Ziva as her erotic assault dragged me from the window to my dark bedroom. Carelessly shoving away our bags and the comforter, we christened the bed in fine fashion, there in the light bleeding in from the living room. With Ziva's piercing cries still loud in my ears and my skull slightly sore from the grip of those amazing thighs, I kiss my way back up her sweaty body and grin into her flushed face. "You've been holding out on me, David," I tease and she glares with no malice.

"Too many people around."

"Yeah, I kinda thought you were a screamer, the way you'd do your best to chew your way through the pillows." The teasing gets me swatted and we laugh together. "My mother wants to meet you," I blurt out suddenly and without thinking.

"I gathered," she smiles, but sobers a bit at the expression on my face. "It will be awkward, no? You having to introduce me as your Israeli-Mossad-liaison officer-Jewish partner?"

Scoffing at the dark humor of the statement, I duck down to kiss her thoroughly. Completely forgetting what we were just talking about for long minutes, I drink her in, feeling the heat rise between us again. My growling stomach is echoed by hers and we giggle together. Before I let us up though, I prop myself on my elbows and stroke through the silky strands at her temples. "I think I have more to talk about than where you're from and religious affiliations, hmmm?"

"You would tell her?"

It almost hurts that Ziva sounds so shocked, but I really do understand. I only have the faintest idea of what kind of life she came from and openness of nearly any sort was not at all encouraged. "Well, I'll have to at some point if we keep this up, won't I? Oh, I'll catch some crap for it, but I've always been a bit of the wild card in my family, believe it or not."

"I believe it," Ziva smiles and tugs me down again to be kissed. "I believe that you are capable of just about anything."

"We," I murmur against her mouth, settling in to ignore our stomachs for just a bit longer. "We are capable of anything."

"We," she echoes softly and for now, there are no more words between us.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: This was astonishingly fun to write! How delighted I am that I could get this out of my system, even as it's a bummer that I will probably never revisit them again. Thank you for coming along for the ride, everybody, it's been a pleasure.


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